Wrath of the Eagle
by American Soldier
Summary: Buffy leaves the group again, and they have to recover. I have no time anymore, guys, but, if I get the chance, I shall continue on with this. Right now, though, I just don't have the energy to dedicate to this. Sorry.
1. Wasted Time, Out of Time

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

Timeline: Season Three (It's the best season for my ff, all of them) 'Dead Man's Party.'

Disclaimer: Don't own, wish I did, but I don't, so I can't make money, buy a nice house, and pay off my bills for the next hundred years like the Joss Almighty. And yes, that was a play on _Bruce Almighty_, bad as it was, and which, by the way, also don't own…I'm going to shut up now before I get sued. Please don't sue.

A/N: I know, I'm a Buffy basher…live with it! I'm also a Xander fan…live with it! I also damn near literally worship at the alter of maker of the Colt handgun…live with it! …Sorry, just had an argument with my mate (Australian/British style, not animalistic) about all three. Anyway, this just struck me last night so, I figured, what the Hell? Enjoy, and please, review. Reviews are like coffee to my cousin: can't get enough, or else, I go mad.

╟╢

Buffy Summers was not in the best frame of mind as she packed her bag. All she thought of was how hard it was to deal. She had known that things wouldn't be easy, that this would take time…but, not like this. She wanted her friends back, not these people…who didn't want her back. Her own Mother thought things would be better if she left. And…she did, too. She wanted what was best for her friends, and she knew that they could handle it without her. She sighed as she finished packing and went to the window. It was a starry night, cold out, especially cold for this place but…she couldn't bring herself to worry. She sighed and tossed the bag outside, then went out onto the sill to the tree. For one agonizing second, she felt that same pang of guilt and horror that she felt the first time she had left her friends. She stopped and considered…but, no…she didn't.

"…Take care," she whispered those same words once, to Willow, and now…she whispered them to no one, hoping that someone out there heard her.

She stifled a sob and dropped down to the ground.

╟╢

Willow sighed in relief as she finally extricated herself from the party. Things were getting intense down there, and she wanted to check on Buffy. She hadn't seemed too well when she had spoken to her, sort of…depressed. It got her worried, thinking that she would run out again. She walked slowly down the hallway to Joyce's room and gently wrapped her knuckles against the door, so as to not surprise her.

"Buffy," she called and, upon receiving nothing for an answer, she opened the door and move inside, "It's Willow. Are you here?"

Once more, only the wind responded to her cry. The young witch began to become worried as she deepened her entry into the room. There was a slight folding along the bed, almost as though an object had been thrown onto it. She gasped as she realized that the fold was, in fact, the shape of a bag. She walked over to the closet, fearing the worst, and opened it up…and found it to be nearly empty.

"Oh, no," she muttered to herself, "She's gone."

"What," she turned her head around to face Joyce Summers, the distraught woman who had once bore Buffy Anne Summers into this world, the woman who now held tears in her eyes, "She's gone?"

Willow tried to speak but, found herself unable to muster a syllable underneath Mrs. Summers' gaze…so, she nodded, her eyes holding a great amount of remorse and sympathy for the ragged woman. The mother of the Slayer clutched her heart as tears began to flow from her eyes. She collapsed onto the bed, with Willow nearby, trying to no avail to appease the weeping mother.

╟╢

Rupert Giles was, by all accounts, a patient man, a man of the written word and of the old ways. However, when it came to the zombies which were now holding his way, he held no patience whatsoever. He threw his fist into the dead thing's face, or what remained of it, sending it sprawling to the floor. He hastily retreated to the safety of his old Citron and locked the door, just as more zombie reinforcements joined the fray. He reached into his pocket and searched for his keys, only to find them missing. Enraged at himself for possibly losing his keys, the keys which led to his ticket out of this mess, he lifted his head up and searched from the window…where he saw the keys, lying on the ground, a mere ten feet away.

"Oh, good show, Giles," he mocked himself.

He took a quick moment to examine his situation and decided that reverting to old skills from his unscrupulous past held the key to his survival, the Englishman dived down underneath the dash and began to tinker with the wires. After a moment, he found the ones he needed, just as a member of the living dead's fist came crashing through his window, littering himself and his vehicle with broken glass. He gritted his teeth as a small fragment invaded the area between his neck and his shoulder and worked harder at his task. After a moment, he felt a slight shock as the wires sparked together, a spark which was followed by the lovely sound of the engine starting.

"Just like riding a bloody bicycle," he muttered to himself as he straightened up and drove down the street, causing the zombies to be left behind in his dust.

╟╢

"So," Xander turned his head to look at his love as she spoke, "What do you think of the infamous Buffy's return?"

"…," he sighed as he searched for an answer to Cordelia's question, "I wish I knew what to think," he muttered after a moment, "One part of me is leaping for joy but…the other parts of me are worried. They're asking 'what now?' and 'how do we deal?' and 'will she stay?' I, we, went through Hell this past three months, and I can't imagine what she went through but…I do know that I would have turned to my friends no matter what."

"Hey, kids," the two turned their attention away from each other to the blonde woman, Pat, Joyce's friend, "You wouldn't happen to know where Joyce is, would you?"

"I think, ugh, upstairs," the two pointed upward in unison.

"Thanks," she smiled at them and turned around to go up.

The two were about to return to the conversation at hand, only to be rudely interrupted as a body flew into the room through the window, shattering the glass completely. Before anyone could react, the being clutched one of the partygoer's necks in his hands and twisted sharply, severing it completely.

"Go upstairs, get Buffy," he shouted to her and ran to help the others.

Two boys, Devon and Jonathan, were working together to try and get this one back outside, the line between cool guy and geek bridged by the mutual need for survival. Xander threw a right into the man, sending him back into the windowpane. He followed through with a kick to its abdomen as it stood up, sending it rolling backward into the gather of beings behind it, causing them all to fall to the ground. He took a quick look behind himself and noticed that more people, each of them equal in grotesque appearance and…dead quality. He came to a quick conclusion: zombies.

"Block the window with that table," he ordered the two, along with the few remaining partiers, "Don't let them get through," he turned around and noticed two jocks, both wrestlers standing by, looking simultaneously thrilled and worried by the increase in violence and decided they would be best, "You two," he snapped at them, causing them to become instantly rigid upon his tone, "Get the couch, block the front door with it."

They nodded in understanding and went to their task. Xander, meanwhile, ran to the front door and aided in the effort to keep them contained.

"The couch is coming," he told the three that were working to keep the front door standing, "When it gets here, move quickly and allow them to place it there, I'll stay to the side and keep them out. When it's down, move and block them as best you can."

They nodded in understanding and moved as fast as they could, allowing the two wrestlers the ability to set it down to the ground. Xander punched the first zombie to even get a hand in, sending it backwards and into the ever-growing crowd of zombies. Fortunately, the two set it down, allowing him enough room to move. He got out from behind the couch and helped them set it down to the ground, as the three remaining guards took up post against the zombies.

"Stay till I give the word," he ordered, causing them to nod in agreement, "You guys take the kitchen," he told the wrestlers, "Keep all them out, and keep it as secure as you can. Make sure it's clear when I come back, got it?"

They nodded simultaneously and hurried back to the kitchen. He sighed in frustration and moved to the dining room, where about seven people were fighting for their very lives from the invading zombies. He looked around quickly for a weapon and settled on the nearby chair. He lifted it up and slammed it into one of their backs, causing it to take its arms away from the person it had been trying to strangle and devote all its attention to him. The person behind the zombie, a small blonde girl with a large amount of freckles, looked to him for advice. He grabbed its arm and began to pull it to the window. She joined him and grabbed its other arm and, together, they threw it out of the room.

"Go," he ordered, "Get all them out."

She nodded and moved on. Xander stayed behind to guard the window, punching and kicking all the zombies that made a run for it, and helping all the remaining people get the beings out of the room. Within fifteen minutes, the dining room was clear.

"The table," he called and the eight of them worked together and lifted the large table up and blocked the window with it.

"Stay here," Xander said to them, "Wait for my order, got it?"

They all nodded, confirming that they had heard him. He ran around the house quickly and went to the hallway in the staircase. He opened the closet and withdrew an axe that he had given her, just in case, a baseball bat, and a pair of ski poles. He ran back to the kitchen and handed the bat off to one of the wrestlers.

"Listen up," they looked at him expectantly (Whoa, he thought, They're actually taking orders from me…never expected it. Oh, well. Save lives now, question status in life later.), "In a few moments, I'm going to have everyone get the Hell outta here. Keep this place covered as best as you can. When I give the order, you," he pointed to the one with the bat, "Go out first, lead them to the hospital, there'll be wounded. You take the rear," he pointed to the other one, "Keep all the stragglers going and any zombies that might pursue off you, got it?"

They nodded. He smiled grimly and turned away, entering the dining room as he did so, grabbing a handful of Chex Mix on the way, and handed one of the ski poles off to the same blonde girl, who was, by far, the one doing the least amount of work on the table. He move on to the front and handed the other pole off to Jonathan, who took it questioningly, but still took it. He sighed in relief and walked up to the stairs, just a few steps below the top floor.

"Everyone," he shouted out, causing a few heads to turn his way while most remained partially focused on their task, "When I give the word, run out the house through the kitchen in the back. Head for the hospital and take any wounded you can," he counted to three in his head quickly and, upon reaching the number, shouted, "GO!"

They took off as fast as they could, escaping the dead clutches through the kitchen. Xander turned away from them and walked up to Joyce's room, where a decaying man was trying to gain access. Xander lifted his axe high and drove it down into the man's head, splitting it open. Before it could react in any way, Xander used the axe handle and pulled it away from the door. He ripped the axe out and kicked the zombie down the stairs, creating a bowling ball effect on all the monsters trying to reach the top floor.

"Strike," he thrust his fist into the air with joy.

Before they could recover, though, the young man turned away and ran into the room, only to be hit in the chest by a bat.

"DAMN," he muttered as he fell against the wall, clutching his stomach, which was threatening to expel his lunch, "What the Hell kinda bus hit me?"

"Xander," he looked up.

Gathered inside the room were Willow, Oz, Cordelia, Joyce, and Pat, all of whom had been valiantly defending the room, and their lives.

"Xander," Willow repeated, "Are you OK?"

"Who hit me," he asked as he stood up.

"…Ugh," he looked up again and saw that Joyce was the one whose fingers were wrapped around the bat, an apologetic look on her face, "I thought you were a zombie."

"…I could never stay mad at a pretty woman," he said, causing her to blush slightly and look away, and for Cordelia to give him and her a look that screamed violence.

Before any could occur, however, the zombie onslaught rose against the door once more, allowing one access to the room.

"Get the door," Xander shouted, causing the others to spring into action and weave away from the zombie and into the door.

Xander, meanwhile, grabbed the remaining zombie by the neck and the arm and guided it to the window at a breakneck speed, hopefully literal breaking of the neck involved, and threw it out the window. As the youth looked up to help the others, a flash of red caught his eyes: the eyes of the mask in the room, Joyce's mask from Nigeria, he believed, were growing redder by the minute. Xander took a chance and ripped the mask off the wall, tossed it to the floor, and slammed the blunt end of the axe down upon it.

"Snooze," he grinned insanely, happy with his own Jim Carrey Mask joke, and stood up to survey the event.

The zombies that had been trying to get into the room were gone, as were all the ones outside. The Scooby gang, along with Pat and Joyce, came up to him in confusion.

"What," Mrs. Summers asked, bewildered as to why he destroyed her mask.

"Eyes glowed red," he stated simply as Cordy wrapped her arms around him, "Took a chance."

"Cool," Oz nodded to him and turned back to his Willow, taking her hands in his own, "You good?"

"Yeah, I'm ok," she smiled at him sadly, "But…Buffy."

"Buffy," that captured Xander's attention automatically, "Where is she? Is she alright? What happened?"

"That's what I'd like to know," everyone's head turned to the door, where an infuriated looking Giles stood.

Willow withered under his gaze as she tried to explain what had happened before the zombie attack.

╟╢

Outskirts of Sunnydale:

"So," the blonde Slayer know as Buffy looked up as the truck driver talked to her, "Where you headin' again?"

"…LA," she said with a grimace, "I have an apartment there, my roommate should be done moving it."

"Why'd you come back here, then," the fat man pried.

"…Because," she struggled to find the right words, "I used to have friends here…now, I don't."

A lonely teardrop made its way down her cheek and onto her hand. It ran down the veins and the skin along her body and into the crevice between her fingers, and onto the ring that the soulful vampire known as Angel had given her before his reversion to Angelus…before the pain had begun, a lonesome memory of love from the past.

╟╢

Los Angeles:

It was dark out in the City of Angels. Many people knew of the city's high death rate, all believed due to gang activity, all of which had been heavy during the early nineties. What many people didn't know was that a great deal of the mortality was due to an undercurrent of activity known widely as the Nosferatu…vampires. One of these creatures of the night was, at the time, stalking through the alleys of teenagers, looking for a meal. Believing the answer to his quest had been in the form of a raven haired goddess, the leech had taken her to a quiet part of the city, where none of his kind or hers would interfere. As he had leaned into her neck, however, he had felt a great force thrust against his chest, sending him back into the wall nearby. He looked up and saw the smirking woman standing before him, a stake in her hand.

"Slayer," he growled at her, "I thought you were gone."

"Wrong 'bout that, fang," she launched her fist into his neck, sending him back into the wall, pinned down by her arm and the stake against his heart, "You're gone."

"Why didn't you just stay lost," he shouted, planning for it to be his last sentiment on this coil of Earth, only to find that she hadn't staked him, but was looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and curiosity.

"Gone," she asked, "Whaddya mean, gone?"

"You left Sunnydale," he snarled at her, "You haven't been seen in months!"

Faith stared helplessly at this creature before her, her sense of power having been stripped away from her. She had never been to Sunnydale, but…Buffy had. She had been there and done many great things, according to her Watcher…her dead Watcher. But, if what this vamp was saying was true, then…that meant that she had run away. Just like she had…and still was.

"Where is she," she demanded of him, "Where is that Slayer you've heard about?"

"Last I heard, she was in Denver," before he could finished the 'er' part, he felt a stab into his chest, then…nothing at all.

Faith dusted her pants off and took a moment to think. She needed help if she was going to stay off Kakistos's trail. She had heard from her Watcher that Buffy was working alone, like she had, so…that meant that there was nothing for her in Sunnydale. She sighed in frustration and took off down the alley, wondering how she was going to get to Denver with what little money she had.

A/N: OK, now I find I can't put songs up here! What about quotes, anybody mind quotes?


	2. Cheating

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

Timeline: Season Three (It's the best season for my ff, all of them) 'Dead Man's Party.'

Disclaimer: Don't own, wish I did, but I don't, so I can't make money, buy a nice house, and pay off my bills for the next hundred years like the Joss Almighty. And yes, that was a play on _Bruce Almighty_, bad as it was, and which, by the way, also don't own…I'm going to shut up now before I get sued. Please don't sue.

A/N to all: Thanks for all who reviewed and all who took the time to read it. So long as one of you out there in the world enjoys this story, I'm happy. Oh, and to Wayne: Thanks for the review, man. One day, I hope you write something. I'd love to see it. And to Darklight: Faith will go to SunnyD one day, of that I am certain. Underneath what circumstances she comes, and whether or not she stays, am open to any ideas on that but, the definite is she will come.

A/N to Jason: Thank you! I was hoping someone'd point it out. Did it on purpose for two reasons; one: I was writing from B's POV so, of course it's going to be soft. She's soft on herself, hard on everyone else. And, two: to see if I could actually pull it off. Had major doubt issues about looking from her POV on that one. Thanks. And Denver? Keep reading to find out. (That's one part that isn't totally WIP)

╟╢

_Hi, for those of you who just tuned in, everyone here is a crazy person._

_- Alexander Harris, Second Season, Becoming Pt. One_

╟╢

The group were collected inside the library that next afternoon, after the Dead Man's Party, as Oz had so lovingly bequeathed it, and were trying to come to terms with the fact that Buffy might never be returning to Sunnydale. Xander and Giles were stood, Giles at the head of the table, Xander near the library cage. Cordelia was in a chair, just a few feet in front of Xander, her eyes flinty with rage. Willow and Oz were sat together, hands clutching each other as they began to believe that they had, in fact, reentered their terrible summer.

"…Did you…" Giles paused in his questioning of Willow before continuing on, "See Buffy leave?"

"Giles, she's gone," Xander stormed over her testimony, "Quit trying to disprove it, it's proven," he ignored the Watcher's miffed look and pressed his point home, "Joyce hasn't seen hide, nor hair, of her. We checked all the bus stations and the airport, the docks, and her usual haunts, along with the truck weigh-in just outside of town. She's gone, just like last time."

The British man decided to review the young American's words rather than simply cast them aside as he had done last year and, after careful consideration, came to the same point.

"Very well," he amended to Xander's statements, "Then, what should our next course of action be?"

"Find her," Willow said automatically.

"And that was such a success last time," Cordelia reminded them, "Last time around, no matter what any of us did, no one could find her…ever. In the end, she found **us**, not that she had to look hard, but, still…we didn't stand a chance. What makes you think we do this time?"

Giles stared at her in consideration and came to the same conclusion, his nod displaying this for fact. He took his glasses off and began to religiously clean them, this time more so than ever before, to the point of nearly causing the glass to fall out.

"What we need to do," all eyes returned to Xander, whose gaze was dead serious and not the eyes of the jester that they had come to love, "Is plan ahead without her. We need to come to a new course and accept the fact that Buffy might not ever return to us."

"Well, what do you propose we do in the meantime," Giles demanded, refusing to give up hope on the Slayer, though the situation appeared grim.

"We do the same thing we did during the summer," Xander instructed, "Only, this time, differently."

"How," Oz asked, a single syllable, yet one that held a great amount of meaning.

Xander took on a smile, the smile of a man who had seen death and was prepared to meet it, face-to-face…the 'Devil May Care' smile. It both frightened and excited the redheaded witch, who knew all too well what Xander's version of this smile meant.

"We," he held the word for a moment, "Cheat."

"How," again, from Oz.

"…With weapons far more powerful than any we have in our arsenal at the moment," he paused to allow his words the ability to sink in, and pressed forward, "Let's think for a second: vampires have the strength and agility equal to, at the very least, four times that of a human…a Slayer tops this greatly. We, while not without our specialties, are not Slayers. We're a werewolf, a Watcher, a witch…hereby named the W Squad," he got a scowl from Giles for that, and a small grin from Willow, more than he expected but, who was he to complain, "A cheerleader, and a geek. That's no army, in the least. But, this geek knows a few things about The Army," he grinned cheekily at Giles, "What I am suggesting is that we add weapons generally used by the U.S. Armed Forces into the mix."

"GUNS," Willow screeched in disbelief, "No, Xander! Guns are dangerous and can kill people!"

"And vampires can't," a simple question but, one that gained no response from the witch, "Guns, in the hands of anyone, are dangerous tools. However, vampires contain more firepower than any gun known to man. Not too mention that it takes a great deal to kill them with a gun."

"That's another point," Willow pressed him, "Guns don't kill vampires!"

"That's why I am suggesting that we work together on this," he said diplomatically, "An M-16 alone is a deadly weapon, or an annoying one in the case of a vamp, but an M-16 with an anti-vamp/demon designation would be a Lethal Weapon against any of them," he smiled as he realized he had named one of the great movies of American history, "I've been thinking and, with all your help, I might have a way of doing this."

"What is it exactly that you need," Giles questioned the youth; he was amazed at Xander's idea, and questioning why he had never thought of it himself, and…truth be told, he rather liked it. Ripper was smiling deep within his core, his opinion clear.

"…Are you all willing to work with me," he sighed at their hesitant looks, but continued on, "I know that things are looking bad right now but…right now, we need to be thinking along a completely different scale. Before, we were hoping that she would come back but, now…we have to face the fact that Buffy might not, and most likely will not, ever come home and, if we keep doing what we did before, it would only be a matter of time before we got killed. We can't defeat our enemies with brute strength, we need skill and tactics for this. Please. I need your help."

For a long moment, no one said anything. Not one word, you could hear a pin drop to the ground. Then…

"I'm with you," Cordelia stood up and put her hand on his shoulder, smiling as he shot her a grateful look, "You thought up the launcher with the Judge last year and, that kinda makes me trust you…but, you're the one who's going to be shooting at them. I'm not getting my nails broke just to pull a trigger, do you understand?"

He nodded briskly, his eyes alit with understanding and thanks. He turned his gaze over to the others and was surprised, again, when Oz stood up and walked over to him.

"…Bad aim," he admitted with, he could swear to God he saw a flicker of a grin, "But, I know some metalwork and welding. I'm in."

He extended his hand to him and Xander, grateful for the support without Willow, took it and shook him firmly. The werewolf nodded and stood to the other side of him, the three eagerly awaiting the only two holdouts' decision. Finally, Willow stood up and walked over to him, her resolve face on.

"You're going to be using them," he nodded to her, "…Don't shoot your ass off."

Xander, Cordelia, and Oz shared a look, and then, somehow, they smiled at the exact same time, even Oz.

"What," they said together, "Me/Him?"

Willow laughed at them openly, amazed that Oz would go along with that. After a moment, she regained control of herself and gingerly wrapped her arms around Xander, and he echoed her response. For a short time, the two lifelong friends shared an intimate moment together, grateful for each other's presence in this dark time. After a minute, the two separated and returned their gaze to Giles, who was smirking a deadly smirk at them.

"…We're relying on you, son," the Englishman came forward and stood in front of him, making direct eye contact with the young man, "…What do you need?"

Xander sighed in relief, knowing that if the Watcher had disagreed, his scheme would go down the drain completely. He clapped his hands together and walked over to his book bag atop the library desk. Inside were several sheets of paper, along with a notebook, all of which were filled with design schematics he had been working on during the summer. He laid the main ones out along the table, clearing it as he did so, and pointed to the first sheet.

"This," he looked around and saw that all of them were gathered around him, "Is a model based on the M-16 standard assault rifle, commonly used in the United States Army and most western armies. It's generally the same design but, with a different barrel: a silenced, constantly silent, barrel. It also needs to have a non-projecting red dot attached underneath the barrel, this way, it's highly unlikely you'll miss. Along with this, I want an attachment added to the barrel: a cross design at the head, that way it can add an extra amount of holiness and can ward off vamps that manage to get by the fire. Keep it a few inches backward, so there'll be no chance of it interfering with the rate of fire. For ammo, forty sized clips, banana clips preferably, since I'm used to handling these. For the actual bullets, hollow points with a magnesium soft tip and a few drops of holy water into the center. Also, Willow, I want you to find a substance, magical or basic, that can kill vampires, like poison, or a spell that increases the potency of the flame on impact."

She nodded. All in all, they were taking his plans pretty well. Apparently, they didn't think his idea with the Judge had been a one-time deal.

"Now, I have no intention on hunting these things on my own, not completely," he flipped open his notebook and turned to the page needed, "This is a design for a crossbow. It's just like your basic rifle cross, only with a pump-clip action state. Standard clip should contain at least four bolts, silver tipped with an etching of a cross on the side. Also, hollow out the bolts themselves and fill them with holy water and a magical substance that will go on fire the second it is released, or a vamp poison...if either exist."

"Won't the fact that they're in the bolt stop it from working," Giles inquired.

"No," he answered, "The bolts themselves, if designed correctly, should break off upon impact from the front, another reason why I said silver. Design the metal right, and it should break underneath enough pressure, right?"

Oz nodded.

"Part of why you're integral to this, Oz," Xander said with a grin, "You, Giles, and I are going to be handling the construction of all this, while Willow and Cordy work the chemical and magical end of this. Now, for rudimentary weapons," he flipped to another page this time, "In the event that we run out of ammo, I came up with a basic weapon: it's a blade with two points sticking out of the sides, centered around a wooden stake, basically. Three concepts in one: stake for vamps, knives for demons, and cross to ward them off. As for containment, the blades will be retractable, towards where you can lift them up and lock them into place adjoining the stake. Also, Willow and Giles will need to perform a basic protection spell on all of us, along with some kind of security shield against all the weapons so that no one but us can use them."

"I think a constraining spell should suffice," Giles answered.

"Good," Xander said with a grin, "I have several more larger scaled designs I want to go over but, not yet, I haven't worked them out just yet. There's a few things that need to happen, Giles. Before, we were too dependant on Buffy, thereby alienating her from the group slightly. This time, we need to be codependent on each other, not just one person. In other words, you are going to train us all."

Giles opened his mouth to protest, but then asked himself why he should. They did live on a Hellmouth and, without the presence of a Slayer, strength would lie in numbers. It would be best that they went together, like a pack, or a squad, as Xander would say. That way, they could be there for each other. Giles nodded in agreement, realizing that it was also one of the things that they had first done incorrectly.

"Secondly, you need to train Willow in magics," the redhead's face lit up at the prospect of more magic, while Giles became weary, he didn't want Willow to consider magic as a substitute for actual work, it could, and often did, lead to bad things, "I know what you're thinking," Xander continued, "However, wouldn't you be more reassured if Willow received proper training instead of doing it herself?"

Giles, for yet another time that day, conceded to Xander's point. He nodded in agreement.

"And, you might want to think about taking Amy on as another apprentice," Xander suggested, "She has some power but, it could get worse any time. Especially without proper training."

The Watcher nodded in agreement, yet again.

"Third condition," Xander took a breath at this one, indicating that it was going to be a doozy for the group, "Both Oz and I have untapped sources of power in our bodies, minds, and souls. Oz is a werewolf and, as such, has great strength in his alternate form. I was once possessed by a Vietnam and Korean War vet and a hyena, both of which have parts remaining in me. If we could find a way to access these abilities, we could both become stronger and faster and, thus, more suited for the job. What do you say?"

"No," Oz answered immediately, "There's a line between me and the wolf. I'm not going to lose sight of it."

The others looked at him curiously, but Xander understood. He, too, realized that if you lose sight of the thing that makes you **you**, everything could end up wrong. And it could open a door to a completely different world, a bad one. He nodded in understanding, but stood firm in the belief that he could utilize both his soldier and his hyena spirits for the betterment of their war.

"Even so," he pressed forward, "I still want to know if you and Willow could find such a spell."

"…It'd be dangerous," Giles stipulated, "However, so is a Slayer and so are vampires. I will agree, underneath the conditions that if we do this, I will be armed with the tranquilizer gun and, before we do this, we will find a spell that will exorcise your body of both your alternate spirits. And you will be locked inside the cage when this happens, too. Agreed?"

"Anything to help," Xander said, "So, Giles, do you think you can gather the materials together?"

"…I believe so," Giles cleaned his glasses again and, this time, the glasses actually did fall out and shatter on the ground, "Bollocks! …Ugh, yes, I think so. Willow, could you fetch my spare glasses for me, please?"

Willow nodded and stood up to accomplish her task.

"Oz," the simple name from Xander held a full question between the two.

"Yeah," the answer to the unspoken question.

"Willow," he called as she came out of the office, "Are you in?"

"Definitely," she agreed, "I'll also look up spells that can create a projectile bolt of fire."

Xander nodded, agreeing that that seemed to be a good idea. He took a glance at his clock and realized that the meeting needed to come to a close if they were going to make patrol.

"Alright," he said with a grin, "Let's head out for patrol. Tomorrow's Saturday so, Giles, be ready to have a bunch of trainees."

The Watcher from the Motherland sighed as his cadre…no, his children, walked out of the library. They held no responsibilities in this war and, as such, deserved to live a free lifestyle, not the kind of which a soldier enjoys. It was, in the Englishman's opinion, the worst sort of wrong ever: the wrong sanctioned by the beings of good. However, they were his children, in all but blood, and he loved them dearly…if they would fight the dark with, or without, his permission, and he had no doubts in his mind that they would if he didn't agree, then he was going to do everything in his power to see them through.

"Oh, four teenagers with not a clue how to throw a punch," Giles pinched his nose, "The Earth is so very bloody doomed."

╟╢

A/N (Final one!): Like to give a thanks, again, to all my reviewers. You guys make writing worth while! Keep 'em coming and, am open to constructive criticism. I just want to improve my writing capability, and every single review helps. Love y'all!

American Soldier


	3. Back In Black

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

Disclaimer: Previous chaps.

A/N (Jason): if you read this, pay close attention. It was her thoughts depicted through third person. Yes, she forgave Xander, but how couldn't she? He didn't take advantage of her and, given her state of mind over Angel, that means a lot. As for the trying to keep everyone out, she had no right to do so. Three angles on that: religious, we all have the right to choose, as given to us from whatever Higher Being we worship and no one has the right to take it away, no matter what they are; tactically, fighting with people you know and trust seems better to me than fighting alone, an error that they made several times obeying her. There's fault to go all around but, a lot more can be sent her way; and, my personal favorite, politics…when fighting in a political war, keep the opposition away from anything that might make you seem weak. She kept her friends out to keep her on the dais. It's just part of that Council crap and the Slayer Alpha spirit, not totally her fault but, isn't it the same way with schoolyard politics? About the dingy apartment…not sure I get what you mean by that so, whatever. The Master, have to give you that. She faced him, even when she was meant to die. Have to credit her for that one. But, with going up against Angel, yeah, she could have handed it off but, she told Willow to curse him. If it'd been Kendra, Angelus would have been killed or killed her but, with Buffy, he wants her to suffer and she wants Angel back. Of course she's not gonna send a Slayer who knows what the job is and does it, not when she can get her boy back. And, silver **doesn't** kill a Fyarl demon, right? Before you bring up the timeline, silver **can't** kill a werewolf? So there's no chance that it can possibly kill something **ELSE**, right? And, the cross…how many vamps actually try to get **at** a cross, with a hot barrel in the way, no less? And the back, yeah, definitely…you take risks in war, always. And, the poison? Props about time but, question: if there's a steroid around that can turn men into flounder, then is it too far of a stretch to say some poison can kill a vamp, or acid? Plain stupidity on them for not realizing it, if you ask me. And, the Council's a lot of cowards, why would they pick up a gun and fight when they have a Slayer? But, maybe a Watcher decided to take a chance and do it him/herself, like Wes? And, the party? Again, props, idiocy with the best of intentions, granted, means shit. It's good, their intent, but thoughtless in point, I agree. As to Hank… it's a thoughtful idea, might decide to work it in somewhere. And, in defense of Wayne, and I just want to say it, question: wasn't the only way for her to 'feel anything' again sleeping with Spike, a vamp who let them down twice with his chip, a vamp who tried to _RAPE_ her, the worst crime against any being there is, when she wised up? Anyway, no offence to Spike fans, great hero in _Angel_ but, without his soul or on Buffy's leash, he's a risk. Even when he killed people with his soul, she couldn't kill him, not even to prevent it from happening again or to prevent the First from using him again. But when she found out that Anya was a demon, what's she do? Call out the cavalry!

I'm done now. I took too long with that rant but, it was worth it. Let me remind you, though…Buffy has left again, like she planned to, and what do you think the odds are of her coming back after running away again? A Hellmouth without a Slayer, desperate times.

╟╢

'_So, how did it go?'  
'On a scale from one to ten? It sucked.'_

_- Willow & Xander, Season One, Prophecy Girl  
_

╟╢

Xander was sat inside the cage in the Sunnydale High School Library, dressed in the same camouflage that had been his Halloween costume nearly a year ago. He sat in the middle of a circle, or, in fact, a diagram. The diagram was the same mark that that insane zookeeper had used to gain access to the hyena spirits in the first place. The two items which had sparked his transformation, combined together, along with a few more items. Cordelia and Oz were standing nearby, the former armed with the tranq gun and the latter holding a bowl. Willow, too, was sat in the middle of a circle of rice atop the table nearby, reading something in Persian, while Giles was right next to the cage, holding a pair of old looking dog tags in his right hand.

As Willow continued to read, the air began to fill with a charge that one had to feel in order to understand. It was…indescribable, literally. Like the feeling of a high, no one can truly understand it until they undergo the experience. Xander, being the focal point for all the energy, felt the largest charge…right in the center of his chest. He knew what to do, so he stretched his arms upward to the sky, as it he were begging the gods on high for some gift or favor. He felt a tendril of power stretch along from the air, starting with his fingers, and etching down his muscles. He gasped as he felt the skin on his arms split open and begin to bleed out, but kept his focus. By now, he was dripping in sweat and hoping against hope that this turned out alright.

"Oz," Giles called, "The bowl."

The werewolf nodded and stepped forward quickly. He presented the bowl through the slit in the cage to Xander's outstretched hands. The young man took the bowl and gently set it down in his lap. He then leaned forward, his head a little over a foot above the bowl, and focused all his energy and mind upon the time spent as both a soldier and a hyena. This spell, or ritual, was all about endurance. In order for it to be successful, the one its being done on has to strive for the reward. He undergoes pain, torment, and misery in order to become stronger. Just like in real life. He gasped as he felt another slit open up underneath his left eye, causing blood to leak down into the bowl…just as it was meant. Giles, seeing his moment, gently tossed the dog tags into the cage, just a few inches away from the bowl.

Xander gasped as yet another cut opened up, this one just underneath his chin, and yet more blood flowed into the bowl. By now, it was nearly overfilled. Only a little bit left. Just as Willow finished chanting, the blood in the bowl began to reach the top. Knowing his job, Xander reached out, ignoring the massive pain as he did so, and gripped the tags. He pulled back and dropped them into the bowl, causing a splash at the point of which it fell. The blood flew out of the air and onto the floor…onto the diagram, which began to glow with a dark red hue. The air began to pulsate more, and a ripple effect seemed to make its way from where Xander was to the boundaries of the circle. It bounced inside the circle, each time gaining in speed, until finally, it reached the point where it was nothing more than a blur.

The young man was in extreme pain all throughout the ceremony and was only just capable of conscious thought. As he saw the blur, he reached down and took the tags, dripping in his own blood. He gingerly lifted them up to his neck and slid them down. As soon as they came to a stop, the ripple reached his body a final time and pounded its way into his body. He felt his entire nervous system shut down for three horrifying seconds, followed by white hot pain. The air around them all was sparked, so much that if you moved an inch, you would feel a static shock. Xander, in the center of it all, was panting and groaning every once in a while but, for the most part, aside from all the blood and the marks, he appeared to be uninjured.

Finally, the mark did its part. The paint used to create the diagram on the floor melted and began to flow along the ground up along his body, going inside his skin until it reached his heart. Then, it invaded his systems and overrode the guards set up to keep the soldier and the hyena at ease within his mind. His heart was the center of his entire being and, thus, the center of his power. Without that power, the guards crumbled to bits underneath the onslaught of the two titanic forces. However, upon their release in his mind, heart, and soul, they did not commence in an attack. Instead, they ceased to become. The two became little more than elements within his body: for the hyena, the instincts, senses, and a portion of its strength. For the soldier, the memories, skills, training, and his IQ. The paint became dissolved inside his blood as its work finished, and the dog tags shriveled into nothing as the last bit of blood dried.

Finally, it ended. The quintet was left in their positions, awaiting the next event on the horizon, whatever it may be. In spite of the fact that they had no idea what to expect, what happened next was completely unpredicted. Xander, whose head was still bent down, slowly rose his neck up and looked upon them. It wasn't the cuts, it wasn't the blood, and it wasn't his pale features that seemed odd to them…it was his eyes: cold and hard, eyes that belonged to a man who had been in countless firefights, hundreds of missions, and had seen a limitless number of his comrades die at the hands of the enemy. In short, they saw the true Xander in his eyes, rather than the clown mask he wore constantly. The other thing that came as a shock to the group was the color of his eyes: an eerie, almost neon green.

"Xander," Giles tried to reach the young man but, his gaze remained unwaveringly ahead, and his body appeared to belong to a monument to the soldier instead of to a young man nearing eighteen.

"Xander," Willow tried, only to be met with the same response.

"…Xander," Cordelia stuttered slightly as she said his name, "Honey?"

He blinked. He blinked again and seemed to come out of his daze. After a moment, he turned his gaze to the young woman and saw her, as though it was the first time he had ever seen her.

"Cordy," he called, his voice full of emotion.

Before any could react, or do anything to prevent her, the cheerleader tossed her rifle to the ground and ran to the cage. Xander stood up slowly and leaned against the cage wall as Cordelia opened the door and ran inside. The two embraced each other, the young man crying silent tears in pain and relief.

_Young love_, Giles thought in amusement as he waited for their moment to come to an end.

_Why didn't he come when I called him_, Willow thought to herself and, as she reconsidered her thoughts, she realized just how idiotic she was being. Cordelia was his love, of course her call would mean more to him. But, she had been his best friend since preschool. Shouldn't that mean more?

Oz looked over at her and read her thoughts through her eyes and frowned within his mind. He knew that she and Xander were close and, he knew he could trust Xander with her but…sometimes he wasn't sure which relationship meant more to her. Of course, he never wanted to put either in a position where either had to choose between their friend or their significant other. However, he could understand why she was somewhat miffed. He supposed he would be upset too if he were in her place. However, there was a simple explanation within reach, one of which the spell had warned. He walked over to her and put an arm around her shoulder, causing her to stare into his eyes.

"Remember," he told her, "None participating in the spell may be heard by him," he quoted from the book, "Only the spirits so that they can come forward. She held the rifle, that's it."

Willow smiled at him, relieved that she still meant something to Xander. Who, in fact, had finally managed to extract himself from Cordy and was standing in front of her. One look and he knew what had been on her mind.

"…I'm sorry," he stated honestly, knowing her thoughts, "I wish I could've but, I couldn't."

╟╢

Xander leaned back in his chair, grateful for the release from the spell, and for the miracles of modern medicine as they began to heal his wounds. It had been difficult but, here he was…green-eyed, and not jealous this time. He closed his eyes…and was immediately thrust into his memories, causing him to scream and jump up, ready to fight. Instead, all he received were frightened glances from his friends.

"…I guess I should tell you what I saw," he muttered and, at Giles's nod, began to speak.

He told first of the hyena who had, in fact, been born during the First Slayer's reign and had actually been the thing to kill her. The soldier, however, had been a different story. He had actually been a field intelligence officer and had served during both Korea and Nam. He had been to many places, cracked several Vietcong codes, and had even foiled a plot to assassinate one of their key Generals during Korea. His death had, interestingly, been caused by an accidental discharge of a weapon at Fort Worth. He didn't even want to think about what happened to the poor bastard who had fired the weapon.

"…Wow," Willow muttered, amazed, "You saw all that?"

"Yeah," Xander answered, his voice calm and collected, "Loved every minute of it…till the deaths started. You know the sad thing? …I don't feel any different than I do right now."

To Willow and Cordelia, that statement meant little, if anything at all. To Oz, it only meant a little bit more, having been the son of a veteran. To Giles, however, that statement meant quite a lot. A man who went through war and didn't feel changed afterwards ordinarily meant two things: you were insane or you were still in the war.


	4. Set Up

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

Disclaimer: previous chaps

A/N (Jason): valid point on the apartment, but, it really goes more against her on the negativity. She should be a bit more grateful for what she has instead of griping about what she can't get. Aside from that, whoever said a Slayer has to be destitute? And, about the superpowers deal, that's basically another form of prejudice, believing that just because they don't have powers that they can't do anything useful. It's like saying that old people can't do a damn thing right or that black people are all stupid! Granted, it's a war against the supernatural so, I can see how you'd have to be supernatural to fight it but, I think the Judge disproves that somewhat. Besides, she could have trained them, if anything else to give them a better shot at making it on the Hellmouth but, no! Don't do that, in case they actually become better on some level than her! For example, look at Angel's crew, he taught them all a few moves to help them out, but not her! Another reason why I like that show better than the original (shameful, I blame ME).

╟℣╢

_Well, here's another nice mess you've gotten me into!_

_- Sons of the Desert_

╟℣╢

Xander leaned back in his chair as he watched Cordelia practice on the dummy that Giles had set up. He was judging her for her speed, accuracy, and timing. However, to anyone who had ever met, seen, or even heard of the man, they would believe that he was currently staring at her fantastic ass. Unfortunately for any betters out there, the young man was only judging her. However, his mind did work towards where he could take a mental recording of such images and use them at a later date…so, perhaps whoever was putting money down would be a winner. Who knew?

Cordelia finished a roundhouse against the dummy and turned around for one half second, noticing Xander's smirk as she did so, and she responded with a playful smirk of her own.

"Enjoying the view," she questioned.

"Very much so," he opened his arms wide as he answered, "Your radiance is like…something radiant."

She smiled at him, her heart lifting as she heard his words. Not the best attempt at suave but, for Xander, it was astounding. She decided to up this a notch and turned fully around to face him, placed both her hands along her hips, and walked towards him, insinuating every motion as vividly as she could.

"Really," she quirked her eyebrow up slightly, "And why am I so radiant?"

She sat down in his lap and slowly wrapped her legs around his waist, causing his eyes to open wide in amazement at his current situation. He took a quick second to come to and took a short breath to calm himself before thinking of a remark.

"…I don't know," he admitted with a wry grin, "I guess you just are…you're Cordelia, my goddess."

She smirked at him, not sure how to take his answer. So, she decided to spare him any more attempts at suave by leaning down and planting a smoldering kiss against his lips. He responded pleasantly, adding his own brand of kissage to the mix and, before long, the two were in a heated make out session, one of which might have led to adult situations (not that they could give a damn at the time) if it hadn't been for the timely intervention.

"Oh, Lord," the two stopped in their exploration of each other's mouths as they heard the British voice shout out.

Giles was standing in the entrance of the library, his glasses in his hands, polishing them with an edge that screamed 'danger, core overload in progress!'

"Giles, you OK in there," Xander asked, a lopsided grin firmly in place.

The Watcher glared.

╟℣╢

Willow sighed contently as Oz walked out of the crypt later that evening. He had told her to remain behind for a moment while he inspected it. So far, after nearly two days of training, the young werewolf had displayed a great amount of zest and skill for boxing, British pub style. He had a short stature but, held a defensive stance similar to that of a boxer, thus the reasoning behind Giles's choice. His motions, however, were erratic at best. His key strength was, in fact, in his height. It allowed him the ability to duck underneath a great number of punches but, against someone who practiced kickboxing, his height could turn up as a disadvantage. It all depended on who he was fighting.

"Good," he called out to her as he walked down the small stairs, "Just a rat."

"So, did you hear the big commotion today," she asked as she entwined her fingers with his own.

"Xander and Cordy," at her nod, he nodded as well.

"I was amazed when I heard it," she said with a grin, "Well, not entirely amazed because it was Cordelia, you know, still kind of a skank, though she's better now, and Xander because he's a guy mesmerized by her enlarged rack but, still, not in a closet, in the library, in front of Giles…"

"…Skank," he questioned after a moment.

"Well, yeah," she said with a look of moderation on her face, "Or, she was. Nowadays, she's all about Xander."

"Then, she's passionate," he stated philosophically.

"What do you mean," she asked, confused.

"Before, it was about power and guys," he said to her, "Now, it's about Xander and saving lives. She's passionate about both."

"…Wow," she said, as though a light had suddenly lit a dark place in her life, "I never thought of it that way."

"It's just like us."

For once, or the first time in her life, she was happy about being compared to Cordelia.

╟℣╢

"Cordy, don't!"

"NO," she rolled her eyes in frustration at him, "I just got this as a birthday present, and I want you to have it. At least this way, you'll have gotten something out of that."

"What," he asked as they walked together around the lot, "That was worth getting kicked out of the library, and a month's delay on the weapons!"

"But, now, you'll get a brand new weapon to kill demons with: a car!"

He sighed in anger. He hated it when she got it in her head to get him something expensive. First, a car. Then, what? A Black Hawk helicopter?

"…Actually," he grinned as thoughts of him flying around North America filled his mind.

"There," Cordelia said, "Now, which car…oh, my GOD!"

She stopped before what, to him, could only be described as a thing of beauty. Before them was a '75 Mustang convertible, crimson in color with black stripes from the headlights on back. Along the sides of the doors were dragons, flying off towards the front of the vehicle. It was in mint condition, just from appearances, and was marked down so much that she wouldn't even have to dip into her Daddy's nest egg that he had given her to buy a new car after her old one had to be put in the shop for a while. There was really nothing spectacular about the vehicle but, there was just something about it that screamed to the two youngsters, like that little voice in your head that tells you to 'Buy me! Buy me! Buy me!'

"So," both jumped up as they heard the sleazy…almost, Willy-like voice behind them and turned to see a middle-aged man with oily hair in a suit, smirking at them, "You like what you see?"

"Yeah," Xander answered immediately, "But, would you mind if I…"

"Looked underneath," Xander nodded, "By all means, go on."

The young man nodded gratefully and walked up to the machine. He opened it up and took a look inside. Cordelia stood in the background, never having been much for manual stuff, aside from violence and manicures, of course. She waited with the salesman (who smelled like schnapps, interestingly) and, a few moments later, her boyfriend lifted his head out from underneath the hood and slammed it back down. He smiled slightly as he walked over to him.

"What's up with the cost," he asked immediately, "I mean, a '75 convertible Mustang in that good a condition? You could probably sell it to an auto museum, or a collector, for a lot more money."

"I've tried," he answered, "But, no one wants it. I blame the town."

Cordelia and Xander shared a look that said 'Yeah, that makes sense.' The Hellmouth had a large rate of deaths and put off a weary vibe to anyone coming, or going. It made sense that any _sensible_ car collector would stay the Hell away from this place. Xander nodded in understanding to the salesman and looked pointedly at Cordy, his eyes questioning.

"I like it," she answered honestly, "And, I'll still be able to keep Daddy's money, I can literally pay for this outta my pocket."

The salesman, if possible, became more oily.

╟℣╢

Said salesman watched them pull out of the lot in their brand new car. He smiled as they did so. They had no idea what they were in store for.

╟℣╢

"Nice," Oz said as Xander and Cordelia showed off their new wheels in the high school parking lot later that evening. They had stopped by, knowing that he and Willow had to check in with Giles before going home, "'75?"

"1975," Xander said with a cheeky grin, "What do you think, Wills?"

Willow stared at the car, an odd look on her face. After a moment, she snapped out of it and turned her attention to Xander.

"It looks good," she admitted, "But…there's something about it that's putting me off."

"Dealership said it did that, or the town did, actually," Cordy stated, "Still, it's a good car. Xander took a look underneath the hood, found nothing wrong."

"You know cars," Oz questioned.

"No," Xander said, "Soldier does. He used to work on this exact same kind of car before he got redeployed. I know the inner workings of this car inside and out."

"Cool."

Willow continued to stare at it, completely transfixed upon the device. There was something about the car, something that put her off. She didn't know what and, until she had a reason why, she was going to encourage her friends about it. Plus, after what Oz had explained to her, she felt the urge to become better, at least in Cordelia's opinion.

"It looks great," she said with a smile, "SO, go take it out. Fly around a little. But, not literally, you might break a few bones."

"Good thinking, Wills," Xander said, "Hey, we can wait here, take you home?"

"Van," Oz said simply.

"Have fun," Willow waved goodbye and the two took off towards the library.

"What was up with Willow," Cordelia asked after a moment.

"Don't know," he said with a grin, "…You wanna drive?"

"No," she said with a leer his way, "I wanna be driven."

She smiled and turned back to the car, leaving Xander staring at her.

"…Damn," was all he could muster.

He grinned and followed her to the Mustang, hopped into the driver's seat, and started the engine. Neither noticed, however, that as soon as he turned the key, the two dragons' eyes on the side glowed a faint black, then the two disappeared altogether.

As the two drove along the road, they came to a stop at a red light. Xander had his hands on the steering wheel while Cordelia was resting her head on his shoulder. As they waited for the light to change, both were so focused on nothing that they didn't noticed the soft glow of the wheel, followed by it traveling up Xander's arms and into his body. It was followed by another light flowing along Xander's shoulder to Cordelia's head and throughout her body. Before the light changed, she sat up and stared at him, and he her. They smiled at each other, smiles that had never before been seen on either faces.

"We're back," they said to each other.

╟℣╢

Willow sat inside her class that Monday, wondering what was wrong. Neither Xander nor Cordelia had been seen all day, which in itself was odd for them, seeing as how they had a Scooby Meeting later this afternoon. She turned her attention to Oz, whose features held a bit of worry, detectable only to the trained eye…or his girlfriend. Both looked up, however, as they heard the door open to reveal…

"Xander," she whispered.

Gone were his geek cloths and baggy pants. Now, he stood there, dressed in a pair of tight denim blue jeans which were worn out along the sides, a pair of old fashioned cowboy boots, an equally tight white shirt which showed off muscles she had never seen before, and a black leather jacket with tassels along the front and sides. He had on a pair of circular glasses which kept his eyes completely covered. He also had on a necklace which, from her distance, appeared to be that of a pair of crisscrossed revolvers. The teacher, a middle aged woman with black hair, glared at him.

"Mr. Harris," she said snootily, "Would you kindly take your glasses off and explain to me why you show up at the end of class?"

Xander, in return, pulled his glasses down to the bridge of his nose and glared at her, a murderous glare that spoke highly of ill intent, causing the lady to back up a few paces in fright and the rest of the class to gasp...it was there first sighting of Xander's neon eyes.

"No, Ma'am," he said with mock innocence, "I will not kindly take my glasses off and, as to the question of where I was, that is, frankly, none of your damn business and I'll thank you to stay out of my personal affairs, otherwise I might have to do something…displeasing."

She stared at him in shock, as did the rest of the class. He had come dangerously close to threatening a teacher. Snyder was going to have a field day with him tomorrow, or later today, it all depended on what mood he was in. Fortunately for all present, the bell rang, releasing them from their captivity. Xander pulled his glasses back up and turned on his heel outside the door, with Willow and Oz hot on his tail. They believed that they had to catch him, to figure out what was wrong. Instead, when they turned towards the library, assuming he'd go that way, they both felt an arm come up around their shoulders as Xander leaned against them both.

"Hey, kids," he said with a grin, "Now, before you go getting on my ass, this is they way it works. Remember that car the X-man bought not this weekend," at their nods, he continued, "Well, it ain't no ordinary car. See, I'm not Xander."

"What," Willow shouted out instantly, "Who are you?"

"Name's J.D.," he said with a leer her way, causing her to blush and Oz to take on a non-existent look of jealousy, "Now, obviously, you're wanting to know my story but, why don't we wait till we get to your library, eh?"

The two nodded and looked up, only to see that they were already in the library. Xander, or J.D., took his arms off of them and walked over to the table. He grabbed a chair and sat down on it, putting both his feet up on the table as he sat, to get more comfortable. The two students shared a look and decided to go along with him, what choice did they have right now, anyway? They sighed together and sat down across from him, just as Giles walked out of his office.

"Xander," he said scathingly, "In spite of your cavalier style of living, would you please keep both your feet off the table?"

Xander, or J.D., just stared at him and grinned innocently.

"…No," he said haughtily, "I won't. You know why?"

Giles glared at him, amazed at the youth's insolence. If he had said that to his father back when he was that young…which, in actuality, he had and got away with it, but that was beside the point.

"Because, I'm not Xander," he finished.

"…What," the Englishman asked, taking off his glasses and cleaning them, "What do you mean…possession?"

J.D. nodded.

"Dear Lord, why can't this boy retain control of his body," Giles questioned the Almighty with a groan and replaced his glasses to his brow, "Alright, who are you?"

"Name's J.D.," he answered, slipping into a cockney accent as he said so, "Born in Memphis, Tennessee, December 3rd, 1929, died in Sunnydale, California, July 26th, 1975."

"…What were you doing here," the British Watcher inquired.

"My girlfriend and I were in Sunnydale, doing a deal with a warlock," he said, an evil look upon his face, "We were drug dealers. Warlock called, needed his fix, we came, warlock killed us, or nearly. We were in our car, he killed us with a few bolts of lightning. Before we passed on, though, this warlock's enemy offered us a chance: we get bound to the car and, whenever two people come along and drive it, we take them over, get our revenge, then pass on. Simple as that."

"A vengeance spell," Giles suggested and, at J.D.'s nod, said, "Very well but, ugh, if this warlock has gotten better then, I…we can't condone killing him. It would be too much for your host to handle, I think."

"I am aware of the kid's morals," J.D. blanched at the word, "Can't say I give a damn about killing people. Heck, I'm on the highway to Hell as it is."

"…You listened to that song," Oz asked.

"What song," J.D. seemed confused.

"_Highway to Hell_, _AC/DC,_" Giles informed, gaining a look of admiration from the young werewolf.

"Never heard of them," he gained a doubtful look from Giles for that.

"There first album was in '76," Oz reasoned, "Before you go, you are listening to some of my records."

"Mine, as well," Giles stated.

"Cool," J.D. grinned happily, "I love rock music. Maybe I can play a little before I go. I'm sure Sam will love it, too."

"Sam," Willow asked.

"Yeah, the girl you call Cordelia," he said, a glassy look overtaking his features, "She's just as hot as Sam was, almost identical."

"…You lucky bastard," all eyes turned to Giles in shock, "What? If I were him, I'd want my girlfriend to look like what she had before."

Willow stared at him for a moment and realized that, yes, if she too were in that position, she'd want the same thing. She sighed and realized that they had all forgotten something.

"Where is Sam," she asked.

"Finding stuff out on that warlock," he said, "…Actually, she's right there."

All eyes turned towards the front of the library. There, walking in from the doors, was Cordelia. Dressed in a pair of skintight croc skin pants with an unlaced pair of gray boots on her feet. She had on a black wife beater with an exposed midriff, allowing the world the ability to see her taught stomach. She also had large bracelets, almost like gauntlets, on both her wrists, along with blonde highlights. She walked into the library and smiled openly when she saw everyone.

"Hey," she greeted, "You tell 'em?"

"Lady and gentlemen," he stood up and walked over to Cordelia/Sam and wrapped his arm around her, "This is Samantha Burk, born September 1st, 1929, in Tulsa, Oklahoma, died in Sunnydale, California on July 26th, 1975. Did you find him?"

"Yeah," she said and she leaned into him, almost as though they were made for each other, "He's in a mansion near the center of town. He's still evil, for your boy's morals."

"How do you know," Willow asked, doubtful of this woman.

"He threw a bolt of lightning at his servant," she stated calmly, "He's taking his afternoon nap right now, getting ready for a sacrifice at the Witching Hour. Wanna go get him?"

"Sure," he said with a grin, "And, afterwards, Giles and Oz are going to take me and you and force us to listen to all the music that's been around after we died."

"I heard a great band on the way," she said as they turned around, "On the radio. I think they were called…_Dingoes_…something to do with dingoes."

"_Dingoes Ate My Baby_," Oz asked.

"Yeah," Sam said as she turned around smiled at him, "How'd you know?"

"I play guitar for them."

╟℣╢

Robert Belmont had been living on the Hellmouth for years. He was a practitioner of the ancient arts, magic, and potions. As such, he often needed to be awake at all hours in order to successfully mix what was needed. However, he was still just human so, he needed a way to do so. He turned to narcotics. Over the years, though, he had continued on in his addiction and had even begun to crave it more than magic. He had done so much that, at his current age of 89, he was nearly comatose, awake only for a few hours a day. He had woken up for a few moments to yell at one of his servants and nearly kill him but, now, he was fast asleep inside his bed. He would be waking up at midnight to perform a ritualistic sacrifice to gain back a bit of the youth and vitality that he had once had but, midnight was far too late. He didn't stand a chance as a hollow bullet flew in through the opened window and into the back of his head.

╟℣╢

That evening, Giles, Oz, J.D., Samantha, and Willow were all gathered in the Watcher's house, the four playing their chosen instruments and listening to the beat of seventies and eighties rock and heavy metal. Giles held his acoustic guitar close as he played along, unable to create the same sound as Oz's electric guitar, or J.D.'s recently purchased (by means of which the British man was still unsure as to whether or not he wanted to know) slide guitar, or Sam's bass guitar. Willow was just content in watching them, though she did feel somewhat left out.

"And that," Oz said as he finished the chord, "Is how you play all our songs, such as they are."

"They're not bad," Sam commented, "But, you could do better on the chords. And try to add a new mixture of sounds: bass, horns, Hell, even triangle."

Giles and J.D. had no choice but to laugh at that. Before either could finish, however, both Sam and J.D. sat straight up as they felt something.

"It's time," he said and he took his guitar off and placed it on the couch, as did Sam, "Been great meetin' y'all. Now, we really are _ON THE HIGHWAY TO HELL!_"

He did a fantastic bit of air guitar to emphasize his point. In the middle of his solo, however, the two seemed to pass out and hit the ground. The remaining three were on their feet in an instant and were helping the two get onto the couch. They backed away to give them air, only to have them both wake up simultaneously.

"Giles," Xander muttered as he shook his head, "Never sing Beatles…ever again, my brain cannot take it."

The Englishman chuckled at that and went over to help his son up to his feet as Willow and Oz did the same for Cordelia.

"Ugh, my head feels like it's gone through a blender," Cordelia said in pain, "Uh, medication, now!"

Oz obliged and left for the medicine cabinet.

"…Willow," Xander called out to the young witch as he sat down, causing her to immediately come to his side, "You thought something was off about the car, didn't you?"

She reddened slightly before nodding. Xander smiled at her and gently took her into his arms, and she reveled in the safe feeling she got. She felt something different with Oz, safe, yes, but…not as familiar as it was with Xander. She loved him on many levels and would probably never get over her crush but, she could try…for him and Oz…and Cordelia, she admitted.

"…Do me a favor," he whispered into her ear, "Whenever you think of something, whenever you have an opinion, I want you to tell me…tell us. Your opinion is important to us all, and that's not just a holding message to keep you on the line, it's the truth."

Willow smiled at him, grateful to know that she mattered to the group. Cordelia watched them with a grin as Oz came back in with some Tylenol. He followed her gaze and allowed a single grin to escape his stoic face before sobering up and handing her the pills.

╟℣╢

Phoenix, Arizona; last night:

Faith ran as fast as she could down the street. Vampires had come by her place and had destroyed it completely, along with eating several of the other tenants as an early morning breakfast. She had hightailed it out, killing a few vamps on the way, before Kakistos and his lackey, Trick, had shown up. Then, she didn't think the Road Runner on _Looney Tunes_ could outrun her. She just wanted to get up to Denver and find Summers before she got killed. If she had moved on to someplace else, then she would just send it all to Hell and head for Sunnydale.

She felt relief come as she saw the open bus up ahead and jumped aboard, just as the door closed. It took off quickly, the driver afraid for his life.

"Jeez, lady," he screamed as he drove, "What did you do to those vamps?"

She didn't answer.


	5. Coven of Lycanthropy

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

A/N(Jason): Good on noticing that they were too gullible. I was hoping someone would. Most of the time in the past, Buffy led the opposition when it came to possession, look at the hyena, for instance. Both Giles and Willow tried to rationalize it, while B followed her instincts. Another big reason why I like her in the first season. The main purpose of the previous chapter was to point out two big things: one, they're too open, thus, too gullible, how their families survived on the Hellmouth is beyond me, especially when Dracula in S5 knew about her; two, they are still suffering from the lack of leadership in the form of Buffy, they can't go from four struggling teens, three during the summer, to a well-oiled machine, particularly when trying to deal with the loss of someone. While I may dislike her, they loved her as family, they can't possibly be thinking half as well as they could. They aren't mature enough yet, and Giles is still racked with guilt over not knowing. Not knowing if your daughter is dead or alive must be worse than knowing that she is dead, at least then she can't suffer anymore, unless she goes to Hell, then…how're you gonna know? Plus, it takes time, hard work, loyalty, and thought to create such a unit. Read the chapter and see the results (DI treatment, courtesy of Giles).

Response to notes: No, not to cops, because they go through training and have to work for their abilities, whereas Buffy gained them in the blink of an eye. And, it's not prejudice to the saving, it's prejudice to the 'inferiority' of the common man, which, in my opinion, is more of a Slayer thing due to the demon, as revealed in S7. And, the griping? Point there, but her opinion of herself doesn't change later on. She's superior to her friends one moment, and places herself upon a pedestal due to her status. 'ooh, I'm the Slayer, I can never amount to anything other than a pair of fists!' What the Hell kinda attitude is that to take into a battle? And, personally, I'd like to think I'd be thinking, 'I'm here for everyone on the outside, I'm here to help save lives.' They all lost the meaning of that as the years went on and, yes, I have a problem with that. They all had their moments, without a doubt, but they became few and far between, particularly when the series mainly became about Spike's abs. And, manipulation of a vampire in order to destroy it or more of its kind is completely acceptable. The object of war is to win for the people you fight for and, if that includes deceit, then I'm fine with that. Aside from that, Buffy may not be qualified as a trainer, I'll grant you that, but she can still help…be a spotter, perhaps, or aid in technique and skill, anything other than saying 'go here, do this, stay outta my way!'

╟℣╢

'_Yep, vampires are real. A lot of 'em live in Sunnydale. Willow'll fill you in.'  
'I know it's hard to accept at first.'  
'Actually, it explains a lot.' _

_- Xander, Willow, and Oz, Season 2, Surprise  
_

╟℣╢

'He was sounding the depths of his nature and the parts of his nature that were deeper than he, going back into the wombs of time. The rabbit could not...'

Willow jumped up from her reading as were-Oz lashed out against the cage. She sighed and put the book down on the table.

"OK," she said, tired, "We will avoid all parts about nice, fuzzy animals for the time being," she turned back to the book and began to read through it, "…Or maybe we'll just forget the book entirely."

She sighed again and tossed the book down to the table, closing it in the process. She sat down in her chair and began to gently message her temples.

"Hey," she looked up as she heard the feminine voice of her best friend, Cordelia, enter the library, arms loaded with a thermos and a few issues of _Cosmo_, "Rough night with Ozzy?"

"Hey, Cordy," Willow greeted her friend, "No, I'm just tired."

"Well, you can rest easy now," she put all her stuff down and placed her fisted hands against her hips and held her head high, like some cheesy superhero pose, "Super Cor is here!"

Willow began to giggle hysterically at her friend. After a few moments and an impossibly straight face, Cordelia sputtered out and joined in the laughing. Were-Oz stared at them, even his feral counterpart was amazed by the exchange. After a few moments, however, the two girls reigned themselves in.

"OK," Willow said as she wiped the grin off her face, "Ugh, he's had his two o'clock feeding, so you should be good till morning. His clothes are on the hamper and, my God, Xander is influencing you too much."

"Well, I'll admit," she grinned at her, "His geekdom is wearing off on me a little but, when we're kissing, he gets real fiery if I call him 'Han."

Willow collapsed in a fit of laughter.

"…I need a new mainframe for one of my computers at home," she said with a simply too innocent look, "I believe I met let that slip somewhere."

"Don't you dare," Cordelia looked terrified now, "If you do, he won't like it anymore and, believe me," her eyes glazed over slightly, "It is worth the geekiness."

"…Wow," Willow said, her face red, "OK, boys aside, thanks for doing this for me. I wouldn't ask but, you know, test. Plus, I'm still wiped from earlier this week."

Cordy nodded in complete understanding. After J.D. and Sam's intrusion of their lives, Giles had stewed till the end of the day after that night, then literally exploded. He had systematically broken them down and explained to them that they all, including himself, had been too trusting. He exclaimed, time and time again, that with the situation as grim as it was that they couldn't afford to be taking any more risks. He was more lenient on Xander and Cordelia, who had both been fundamentally unable to do anything, but had been vehemently judgmental to himself, herself, and Oz, claiming that they all should have acted differently and that this had been a rare moment of luck when someone was actually trying to tell the truth and not swindle them. They had grown soft and the time had come to harden up. Xander had echoed his message with passion, remembering his distrust for Angel when he first showed up. He did, however, point out that Willow had had feelings of unease around the car, but had ignored them. Due to her level of prowess with magic, she could no longer afford the luxury of neglecting her feelings. Which was another reason why she wanted to take the night off. She had been feeling restless all day and would like to think that it was because of Giles's speech and the upcoming test but, something told her that it was not. So, she was going to get some sleep and, if she felt the same tomorrow, tell the gang. She had to learn to trust them, and not just…She destroyed the thoughts of her friend in an instant, not wanting to feel that familiar pain.

"…Where's Xander, anyway," she asked her friend, trying to forget her lost friend.

"He and Giles are working on the weapons again," she said with a sigh, "He forgave us for that kiss in exchange for a ride in the Mustang."

"How was it," Willow asked, excited for Giles.

"He's a maniac behind the wheel," her face paled at the sheer memory, "Especially when he put the _Sex Pistols_ on. But, it worked out, and Xander's going to test the ammo they made for his Desert Eagle."

"Where are they keeping it all," Willow asked.

"Remember that bomb shelter that Ford used to try and kill Buffy," Willow nodded sadly as the memory of their old friend assaulted her mind, "Giles bought it with some of the Council's funds, they're using it. …Are you alright?"

"I just," she sighed and refused to cry, "I just wish we knew where she was."

Cordelia nodded in understanding and wrapped her arms around the redhead, the two taking comfort in the fact that they had each other and their boyfriends, and Giles.

╟℣╢

Xander ran through the forest as fast as he could, grateful for, not the first time and, certainly not the last time, that his teacher had decided to simply go into early retirement upon J.D.'s vocalization of things he had been so tempted to say several thousand times, thereby preventing Snyder, but only just barely, from exacting vengeance on him, specifically because she refused to testify in any way against him. He was currently running through the woods due to the fact that he had heard a scream in the night and intended to fight it out with whatever it was. As he came to a ditch with a small stream of water flowing through it, the screams became personified. A boy that he thought he recognized was slowly being mauled to death by an almost human looking creature, with stood out veins and an odd, almost animalistic face. He reached along his belt and withdrew his Eagle, knowing already that against vampires and several species of demon, the special ammunition worked well, and would probably work better when Willow discovered the spells required, underneath Giles's tutelage, of course. He lined up his shot and took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly and, right in the middle of it, pulled the trigger back. The bullet whizzed through the air, an explosive symphony of death.

He saw its effects immediately as a large hole appeared in the back of the creature's head, sending it to the ground, its brains dripping out of its skull. Xander holstered his pistol and surged forward, just as the mauled man was beginning to get up.

"Don't move," he ordered as he knelt beside him and pushed the body away, "Where's it hurt the most?"

"My arm," he heard him say, "Leg."

Xander nodded and took off his jacket. Inside, he kept several bandages along with a bottle of tequila, just in case he got injured or in case he needed a Molotov cocktail. He handed the bottle off to the man and began to open his bandages.

"Pour it," he commanded and the man hesitated, so Xander just grabbed his hand and poured it onto the wound, causing him to scream out in pain, "Shut up," he ordered, "You want more of those things to come?"

"But," he stuttered slightly against the pain, but pressed forward, "That's my friend…Pete."

Xander stopped wrapping the wound complete. He turned his gaze onto the body…and found that it was, in fact, a friend of Oz's called Pete.

"Damn," he muttered, "Well, he was trying to kill you. Alright," he'd feel bad later, worry about the victim now, so he poured more the liquid onto his leg, causing him to grunt in pain, and he began to wrap it. After a few moments, he was done, "The alcohol should stunt the germs, a little. I'd much rather have disinfectant on me but, I don't. I'll have to start carrying it."

He sighed and took another look at the man before him.

"Hey, I know you," Xander paused for a moment to place the face, "Jeff, right?"

"Yeah," he agreed, "Ugh, Xander?"

He nodded and stood up.

"Much as I hate to say this, but," he leaned down again and helped Jeff get to his feet and placed his head underneath his arm to help support him, "I'm going to have to leave the body for a moment. We need to get you to a hospital."

"Ugh, Xander," Jeff was, if possible, even paler underneath the moonlight, and was pointing back the way that Xander had come from…towards five masses on their hands and feet, masses that appeared to be…

"Damned werewolves," he muttered, "Come on!"

He ran as fast as he could.

╟℣╢

"Damn it, look what they did to the car!"

Giles sighed in aggravation at Cordelia's completely expected outburst. Xander had brought the car by as evidence of what had transpired last night, with a collective of werewolves and the unfortunate death of someone his rescued party had identified as 'Pete,' who had tried to maul him to death. Giles sat on the hood of the car as Xander went over the story. He had checked in last night but, had been too tired after running with Jeff on his back and driving as fast as he could to the hospital.

"Wait," Cordelia held her hand up to interrupt him, "What time did you say it was?"

"Ugh, a little before four," Xander said, "Why?"

"About quarter till four, Oz started acting up," she explained, "He was banging against the door, the walls, ripping things, I had to put him to sleep."

"Hmm," Giles muttered as thoughts began to vibrate throughout his cranium, "Five wolves, all attacking you in a pack, and Oz's increased temper. It could be the presence of a traveling wolf pack that's exciting him."

"So, what do we do," Xander asked.

"…You and I will be patrolling the woods together, I'll-I'll get a second tranquilizer rifle. Cordelia, I want you to set up a camera and have it monitor Oz while you're there, and I'll insist that Willow be there as well. Try and determine their locations, if you can. Xander, meet at the bomb shelter tonight, before ten. I'll spend the day researching anything along the lines of a werewolf collective."

"And have Willow put some kind of tracer on Oz," Xander suggested, "If he manages to get out and start going for the pack, we can track him."

"Good idea," Giles agreed just as the bell rang.

"Willow and I'll be by to help research," Cordelia said and the two teenagers went off.

╟℣╢

"Giles," the Englishman stopped as he heard his young charge call out to him.

"Willow, good," he said with a grin, "I, um, need you to pull out a, ugh…tracking device for Oz. A group of werewolves attacked Xander and Oz was acting up around the time it occurred."

"I have some," she said, giddy about helping her friends, "But, I wanted to talk to you. Remember how I got a feeling when Xander showed us his car," Giles scowled mercilessly at the memory of their first, not the last by all means, foul-up, "Well, I got this…weird feeling of unease ever since yesterday. I think something's here, Giles."

He paused in thought.

╟℣╢

Cordelia sat down at the table that Willow and Oz had claimed as their own, receiving several odd looks as she did so. Ever since Xander's, or J.D.'s outburst in class, his reputation had been skyrocketing in some areas, specifically amongst those who hated the school, Snyder, and the teachers in general, while others (being preps and nerds) were truly hating him. It didn't matter to the man in question, his reputation was horrible as it was, and thus wasn't worth noticing…or caring.

"Hey, Cordy," Willow greeted her happily, "How're you doing?"

"Good," she said, she would have been put off slightly by her behavior but, somehow, she got the feeling that Willow had finally accepted her. Maybe it was because she had realized that she was the only girlfriend she had left, or because Willow had finally accepted her, or simply because she had forgiven Xander for 'cheating,' as Cordelia believed the witch thought…either way, it was better than having her sneer down at her like she had during the Angel fiasco.

"Hey," Oz called to her.

"Hey," she called back, "Are the _Dingoes_ playing anytime soon?"

"No," he answered, "Not till next week."

"Hiya," Xander said as he came up to their desk outside.

The young women each took a moment to examine Xander. The man had traded up in clothing, thankfully. In the end, it had taken the influence of J.D. to force him into getting actual clothing. He was dressed in a pair of loose jeans with a dark green shirt and a black leather jacket. He also had on the necklace that J.D. had gotten, making him look somewhat dangerous. Add to his new rep and…

"Hey, Xander," he scooted up right next to her and began to dig into his lunch.

"I got the tracer like you wanted, Xander," Willow said with a grimace, "I don't like putting it on Oz but, if it'll help."

"Where'd you get it," Xander inquired.

"I made it during our solo patrols this summer for our walkie-talkies," Willow answered, "I was working on the locater but…stopped when…"

She didn't have to finish.

╟℣╢

Xander resisted the urge to groan. So far, he and Giles had only picked out a few trails, all of which had led to dead ends, the only thing even resembling a lead being Willow's feelings. He hoped they got a message from her, telling them that her spell had been successful. It was around two in the morning, a little over two hours before the pack had first been sighted last night. Xander kept his eyes steady on the trail, his hands on both his pistols in case of need, while Giles stayed to his side, his rifle pointed downward to the ground. He looked to the right as a bit of movement caught his eye. He motioned with his hand towards where he had seen the movement, causing Giles to shoulder his rifle and put it forward.

Before either could react, a figure jumped out of bushes right in front of them, knocking Giles down and the rifle out of his hands. Xander reacted and withdrew his Eagles and was about to open fire when he got a good look at his face.

"…Angel," he muttered in disbelief.

The vampire in question growled at him and lunged. Xander dived down to avoid the jump and the vampire fell to the ground, the sound echoing throughout the area. Xander got to his feet and, just as the vampire charged at him, he fired two rounds into his chest. The holy magnesium flared up within his body, causing him to combust. Before long, his ashes were blowing in the wind. Xander sighed, emotions running on high, and holstered his weapons. He turned his attention to Giles, who was coming to his feet with his rifle in toe.

"My God," the Englishman muttered, "How did he…return?"

"Damn good question," Xander grinned slightly as a thought occurred to his mind, "I knew I was going to be there when you died."

"What," Giles asked, having only heard a portion of it.

"Nothin'. Let's get back to the library, they're going to want to know this."

╟℣╢

As Xander and Giles entered the library, the first thing they noticed was the massive amount of dirt. The second thing was the complete chaos in the room, the table was broken, so was the cage door. The third thing, and most important, were the two women lying on the floor.

"Cordy, Willow," Xander shouted and he raced over to them, Giles hot on his heals.

He slid to the ground and reached Willow first, while Giles jumped over the redhead and bent down to check on Cordy. He felt her pulse and was grateful to God that it was there.

"She alive," he asked Giles, once more feeling his heart come to a stop.

"Yes," he answered, "They don't seem to be injured, just unconscious."

Xander stood up quickly and went into the office, dialed 9-1-1, and had the paramedics on the way.

"One day, I'm going to buy a paramedic for us," he muttered.

He reentered the main library room, where Giles had gotten Willow and Cordelia clear of the main battle area and over to where the paramedics could get to them best. He was currently tinkering with the camera to see if they could get it working.

"Got it," he stated and he pulled out the screen on the side so they could watch.

The last ten minutes of footage were mostly the two girls hanging around and preparing the spell but, less than five minutes before they arrived at the library, a large group of werewolves invaded. Oz broke out and the wolves overpowered the two, so quickly that Cordelia couldn't get a shot off. The last bit of important footage was of Oz and the wolves going away but, the interesting thing was that all the wolves wore an amulet along their neck.

"The tracer," Xander ran over to the destroyed table and went through its fragments until he found the small radar screen…which was still beeping, "I got him, and I'm going after him."

"Here," Giles tossed the rifle to him and a few darts, "Be careful."

He nodded and ran out the door, hoping he could stop whatever was about to happen next.

╟℣╢

Xander crawled through the shaft as quietly as he could. The tracer had led him to a small cave, the entrance being barely three feet high, but covered by three wolf guards, each having an amulet. He didn't want to waste any darts, not until he was certain as to Oz's location and, until then, he had to be careful. So, he had done a quick search through the area and had found another shaft which he hoped would lead him there…wherever there was. Finally, after a few minutes of complete darkness, he found light. He slowed down and came to just a foot away from the exit point of the shaft, which led down to a large pit, where there was a great gathering of…naked humans, each wearing one of those amulets. They formed a semicircle around the back of the pit, where there was a large mound.

Atop the mound was a throne, a gothic throne with winged wolves all over it, along with two wolves baying to the moon on each side at the head. Sat in the throne was a tall woman with short, brown hair and a crown atop her head. The crown was black, so he couldn't tell the particulars of it. She was dressed in flowing, white robes with a gold outlining along the shoulders and wrists. Before her, on both his knees, was Oz, his hands and feet chained. Stood above him were two men, naked just as he, and one held one of the amulets like the same he himself wore, while the other was holding a baby lamb. He focused all his attention to what they were saying.

"You will not take the sacrifice," the one holding the lamb asked, his tone one of sympathy but sternness, as though he hated what he was doing but would do it because he had no choice.

"No," Oz said, barely above a whisper.

"You will not pledge yourself to the Queen of the Wolves," the same one asked again.

"No," he said again.

Xander looked to the rest and saw that, they too held sympathetic gazes. A few were staring at the 'Queen of the Wolves,' as he believed from the direction of their eyes and heads, and from his vantage point, he could easily see the hatred of her. This fueled his decision. Giles had said to be less trusting but, since they had no clue he was there, hopefully, he felt that he could rely on that a little bit; aside from that, she was holding her friend hostage, that led to a bullet in her throat. He reached over to his side and grabbed his rifle and lined his sight up with the Queen's neck. Before firing, however, he returned his gaze to the ones below him…and saw two women and a man staring at him, all three slowly nodding. That was all he needed. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

The dart flew thru the air and landed with a slight ping against the woman's neck, injecting her body with sweet toxin that would send her to sleep for quite some time. Had she been aware of his presence, she would have been able to stop him but, as it had been, she had no way to protect herself and, thus, the nectar flowed freely throughout her body. She collapsed inside her seat, unconscious.

All eyes turned to him as he pulled himself the rest of the way through the hole. He tried to grab onto the ground and use it to right himself as he fell but, the ground crumbled underneath his fingers, causing him to fall flat on his ass. Two people, both men, were nearby and quickly helped him to his feet. He nodded in thanks and shook the dust off his gear, and looked up when he heard Oz shout out to him.

"Hey," he grinned as he walked up towards his wolf friend, "Is this a private party or can any wolf join in?"

"Who are you," one of the 'priests,' as he had named them in his head, asked as he dropped the amulet to the ground.

"What happened here," he ignored the question, not wanting to give away any information that wasn't necessary. He may have liberated them but, as the Watcher had drilled into their minds, appearances could be deceiving.

"Ugh, not to interrupt, but," Oz gestured emphatically to his chains, and the priests bent down to unlock his shackles. After a moment, the young wolf was free to move again, so he stood up and stared up at Xander.

"They said that she was the Queen of the Wolves," Oz stated for them, "Some kinda deity for lycanthropes. But, one of them told me that she's just a witch that specializes with werewolves as familiars."

"That's true," the other priest, the one with the lamb, said, "She uses the potency of magic in our bodies to control us and gain power. She uses our amulets, they're tied directly into her life-force, to control when we're wolves and when we aren't."

"Then, why is he human," Xander questioned, pointing to Oz as he did so.

"The cave also has the same effect, it's part of her magic."

"…You're slaves," Oz said…it wasn't a question.

The priests both nodded. Xander sighed and came to a decision. He pulled out his Eagle and slowly walked up to the witch. From what they said, she was too powerful to have her own powers bound, if that was possible, and she had obviously been at it for so long that people just stopped mattering to her. Aside from that, there was something about these people that affected him deeply, something that made him want vengeance for them. He knew it was somewhat unjustified but, the feeling he was getting was just too powerful to ignore. It would be his second human life taken in the week but, the first one had been necessary for Jeff's survival. This one was even more so. He pointed his weapon down at her skull and silently pulled the trigger. The bullet flew outside her skull, seared with gore.

He sighed, his heart filled with grief and sadness, and turned back to the collective of werewolves.

"…How long will her magic last," he asked.

"Till morning, probably," the priest said.

"…Come," he pulled his werewolf friend along and walked towards the entrance to the cave, causing people to part before him like Moses and the Red Sea, "Get to the entrance, wait there. I'm taking you back to the library."

"Right," he nodded and made his way up.

"The rest of you," he called out, his voice echoing throughout the cave, "Stay here for the night, or till sunrise. I'll be back with clothes and food for you."

"Who are you," a masculine voice shouted out.

Xander paused before answering. He wasn't sure if he trusted these people yet. Some of them might have Stockholm syndrome or something for the 'Queen,' while some would hero-worship him. He just wanted to help them and send them back home, he was sure that some of them had jobs and families to return to…maybe even a spouse or a child. They needed to simply have a nameless person to thank, not an actual being that they could worship or something…that had been a problem with Buffy before, during Owen.

"No one," he answered, Desert Eagles out as he walked after Oz.

╟℣╢

"I, ugh, managed to convince the Council to give me the money to have all our victims transported home, along with food and clothing," Giles said to Xander, Willow, Cordelia, and Oz as the quintet walked down the hallway of Sunnydale High School.

After a great amount of research, with the captives underneath lock and key at the hospital with Xander and Oz close by, just in case, the group had determined their story to be true. All of them were on missing person's list while the 'Queen of the Wolves' was mentioned in several texts as a witch who used werewolves to gain immortality. While the Englishman had been disapproving about Xander's decision, he had understood. Seeing all those people like that had to be troubling for the psyche.

"When you say 'convince,'" Xander said, "You mean you stole from them, right?"

"Certainly," Giles answered with a Ripperish grin, "I know those pillocks would have simply taken advantage of them. Besides," he sighed and took his glasses off as they entered the library, turned around to face them all and sighed, "The Council fired me for losing Buffy a second time. Since she's not here, they don't feel the need to deport me."

"Like we'd let them," Oz stated, with a nod of affirmation from all three present.

Giles felt his heart soar high. He may have lost one child, but he still had four left.


	6. Therapy

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

A/N(Jason): Angel's dead, yeah. I hated doing it, but, if you ask me, Angel's better with his own series. He sucks when he's in Sunnydale. As for LA, I think I'll be doing something about it. Debate-wise: Yes, they brag, but it was mainly to cover up for awkward pauses. I came into the show on that episode, to be honest, and I could tell from the second I saw it that they were just trying to fill some kind of gap. Didn't know what, so, I had to go to a friend (Buffy fanatics, future and present, tend to stick together, y'know?) and get all the episodes from the first season on. Inferiority, while not being quite as present during the second season, was there by letting Angelus live. She's basically saying that she's willing to let a murderer live all in exchange for being able to take him out on her own terms and, I am willing to put money on it, that if one of them did kill Angelus for his crimes, she would put them in a hospital, if not, send them to the morgue. I can understand the first time but, she had already claimed hating him and that he was making it easier but, when it counted, she couldn't. But, even when Angel sends a girl on her, she's not willing to do the right thing. She lost a lot, I understand that, but it's nothing compared to the people who lost their lives. Socially, they were nonentities. Willow: nerd, Xander: geek, Giles: librarian, Oz: nerdy rocker, Cordelia: former queen, popularity dropped a lot during her dating with Xander. They were all they had, except for Cordy and Oz, who were outsiders amongst outsiders, really. And, when I say 'those on the outside,' I mean those who are unaware of the supernatural. You can see them as being on the outside, you can also see them being on the inside, it all depends upon which side of the fence you look from. Arrogance can be found as pointing things out, I have to give you that but, it all depends on how it is presented. If it's 'Xander: So, what's the plan? We saddle up, right? Buffy: There's no 'we', okay? I'm the Slayer, and you're not,' while it's true, it's basically saying that no one, aside from her, is useful. An example, rare during the first season, but there, nonetheless, of automatic inferiority and arrogance. I blame her, the Slayer spirit, and the Council. However, looking from the other side, I can understand how she'd be reluctant to take an untrained civilian into the fight but, the way she said it is just arrogant and, therefore, does not get the message across. If she'd have said something like 'I get that you want to help, I do, but, you're really putting him in more danger like that.' Gets the message across, somewhat, and appeals to his natural loyalty to his brother, whereas just saying 'I'm the Slayer, you're not' is just begging the boy to take offense and do something rash, bold, but rash. Training, she can't take half an hour to help Giles train the Scoobies after she's had an adequate practice, then go out and slay? Or, on-the-job training, like she did with Dawn during the beginning of the seventh season, first smart move, aside from pushing Spike away (offense totally meant to the S5 & 6 Spike), she ever did. Made for a hopeful start to the season but, she later proves her incapability to lead troops during 'Dirty Girls.' She's a Slayer, a foot soldier. Giles, Willow, or Xander should have been in charge, not someone who tends to think with their fist (I personally would have had Giles be in charge, his leadership and tactics would have been most helpful but, he decided to have Buffy put in charge, a move that I truly hate him for). Every good plan that was ever made was made by a joint effort, not her alone. They work as a unit and, while she may be the figurehead, she is not the leader. Giles is, or should have been, from the beginning. And, if you notice, I make sure to have Xander get his opinion, whereas Buffy could give any less of a damn.

╟℣╢

I love the smell of napalm in the morning.

- _APOCALYPSE NOW_

╟℣╢

"Everyone," his three charges looked up to him as he spoke, causing the British Watcher to falter slightly. He looked over to his right as he felt an arm grasp his shoulder and saw Xander, a look of grimness on his face.

"Let me tell them," he insisted and, Giles felt his former resolve die. He truly didn't want to be the one to tell them so, in a moment of selfishness, he allowed the young man to rescue him.

"Guys," he took a breath in to steady his nerves, "…Angel returned," he paused for a moment to judge their reactions: Oz, unreadable, as always, with only a quirked eyebrow as any indication that he gave a damn; Cordelia, a look of blatant shock on her face, followed almost immediately by anger; Willow's reaction was, by far, the most surprising. He had expected her to be hopeful, to believe that they could use this to tempt Buffy back. Instead, all her features read pure, unadulterated rage. He would have to ask about it later, but, he had to finish this, "He was…feral, basically, when we found him. He attacked us, knocked Giles down, and came at me," he trailed off slightly, allowing the meaning of his words fair opportunity to sink in, then continued, "I shot him."

"He's dead," Willow stated, her look intensifying and, at his nod, said, "Good. He deserved to die."

Without pause for thought, the redheaded witch stood up and walked out the library.

╟℣╢

"Amy, I realize that this must be incredibly difficult for you but, it is necessary for you to meet your fears. If you allow them to remain as they are, they will consume you and you will become what you fear the most."

Amy Madison stared up at the handsome Watcher, finding it difficult to string two words together. She was still edgy around him from the love spell incident and did not want to give up Rack. Mr. Giles would most likely go out and hunt her mentor down, before he could finish with her training. She licked her lips nervously and tried to answer as best as she could allow.

"I'm not afraid of my power," she stated, hoping that he'd believe her.

"No, I don't think you are," she inwardly smiled, believing that she had fooled him, "What I am referring to, however, is your mother."

She cringed.

"Your mother allowed her magic to consume her soul and it overpowered her, turned her into a dark witch. The same could easily happen to you."

Amy stared ahead, transfixed upon his tweed jacket, and truly considered his words. She did enjoy her magic, and she did enjoy all Rack's lessons. However, she had begun to feel her aura, her magic, grow steadily darker during her sessions with him and, while she was able to wipe it clean when she practiced alongside Willow and Michael, she knew that, one day, it could consume her…and turn her into her mother.

╟℣╢

Oz stood inside the hall, waiting for his friend to come out of the classroom. The bell rang, releasing the throngs of students from their captivity to the everlasting wonder of the world, no matter how small it may be. As many more people passed by, the person he wanted to speak to the most came out of her class. She paused in the quad to meet her other friend, allowing him enough time to catch up to them.

"Debbie," the blonde woman turned to him and smiled slightly at seeing him, though it was a pained smile.

"Oz," she greeted her friend warmly, "Hey, ugh, how're you doing?"

He paused before answering, "That's…pretty much what I was gonna ask you."

He looked over to Scott Hope, acknowledging his presence, before returning his attention to Debbie.

"…I just," she began to tear up and held a hand to her chin, "I can't believe that he's gone."

She broke down, with only the werewolf and the shy boy left to comfort her.

╟℣╢

"Xander, you have taken two lives now, almost a week ago. How do you feel every time you think about it?"

Rupert Giles realized that, the odds of the young man truly needing this therapy were almost nil but, he refused to give this young man even the slightest bit of chance to fall into a pit…one of which, he himself, had fallen into.

"…Dirty," the 'Eagle,' as the lycanthropes had begun to call him from his weaponry, said, barely above a whisper, "Like I had just done something horribly wrong. I want to throw up every time I think about it…just like when I had to kill in Vietnam. Or my soldier did."

Giles resisted the urge to jump for joy. He knew the risks of this business. Very easily, killing could become something too simple for any soldier, so simple that it began to seem as though nothing could defeat them. That kind of attitude on the field could lead to dangerous situations. Or, even death.

"Are you and Cordelia going to the Homecoming Dance," he tried for a less intense topic.

"No," Xander seemed happy about the news, "Cordy just doesn't feel up to it this year. Plus, she's taken some time to think about herself and…she doesn't want to be Queen C. She just wants to be Cordelia."

His day got better quite suddenly.

╟℣╢

"Willow, I want you to know that you are excelling very well. Your ability to do spells, levitation, and even transfiguration are astounding. You might, in fact, become a more powerful mage than I."

Willow beamed at his praise, only to frown as she noticed the look that had come across his face.

"However," he took his glasses off and began to clean them, "You must remember that, in spite of the fact that you can use these powers to whatever purpose you impose, you must not ever use them for either personal gain or to harm someone. Also, never use your magic to manipulate someone. And, most important, mod-"

"-eration," the young Wicca finished his catchphrase for him, earning herself a glare in retort, along with a strange clucking sound from his tongue.

"Willow," the Englishman paused in his attempt as he collected his emotions and thoughts, then pressed forward, "How do you feel about what Xander said last week?"

Her features became a mirror into the past.

"…I thought long and hard about what happened last year, Giles," she said, her usually sweet voice lost to the dark, "When I found the spell, I thought, 'finally, it can end.' That's all I wanted, for it to end. No more misery over Angel, no more pain. I just wanted it to end. Let's face it, Rupert," he looked up, startled at her use of his first name, "She would never have staked him, and none of us were brave enough, or strong enough, to do it ourselves. It was the only way to finish it. Then, Kendra died, and we were all attacked, you were gone…" she paused for a moment, a single tear making its way down her cheek. Giles came forward, intending on enveloping her in embrace, only to have her back up, "No, I need to say this," he nodded in understanding and slowly backed away, giving her space, "…I felt so sorry for her," he knew who she was, "So sorry that she had to live with all this pain. Sorry that she was going to have to send the thing that was wearing her lover's face to Hell. I wanted to give her another chance, to give him another chance.

"…Then, she left. We didn't know anything, didn't know if it worked. I thought long and hard about it the night Buffy left us again. I realized something…something that only one other person on this planet knows, and it'll remain that way," she said, her resolve face firmly intact, causing him to force down his curiosity, "And I realized that…what was done, by me, wasn't right. Trying to justify what was done by giving him his soul. It didn't justify it, it only made things worse. But, what was done that day…one thing, and only one thing, was done right, and for that, I am grateful. It means a lot…will always mean a lot but, it shouldn't have had to have been done. It should have ended the second we found out what had happened to Angel…not months later."

The witch abruptly stood up and left the room, leaving the distraught Englishman alone with his thoughts.

╟℣╢

"Mind your footing, Oz," Giles instructed his young protégé on his boxing method, "You're likely to trip over your own feet like that."

The young man apparently ignored him but, Rupert knew the wolf long enough to realize that he had, in fact, taken his advice to heart and was going to use it to the best of his abilities. All in all, Oz was his most prominent student when it came to his homeland's boxing style. Xander, while being the most formidable of the four youngsters, preferred his chosen Army styling which, being military, was a combination based upon a varied amount of fighting styles: martial arts from Asia, boxing from all over the world, and a combination of lethal punctures from a single hand. The odds were, however slim, that Xander could probably take Giles himself in a straight fight. However, Xander preferred to fight with a straight mentality, rarely resorting to underhanded tactics or 'dirty tricks.' Oz, however, held no such code of conduct and was, thus, better made for the dirty tricks old Ripper had to teach him.

He watched the werewolf work on the test dummy and smiled with pride as his charge jumped up into the air and swept his leg up into the dummy's ribcage. He felt certain that, if it had been a living human being, whoever it was would be puking blood on the floor. Oz settled back down to the floor and brought his arms up in a defensive position instinctively.

"That's good," he held his hand up to discontinue his charge's assault on the beaten dummy, "Ugh, will you be joining Xander on the shooting range before patrol tonight? I know you don't have the best aim, but there's always room for improvement."

The young man shook his head.

"Don't like guns," he answered.

Giles nodded in understanding. Considering that Oz had been hunted by that werewolf killer, he understood his hesitation at using weapons such as that. Plus, he was shot once. He had actually felt the pain caused by a bullet and, as such, was tentative in forcing someone, even a demon, to undergo that kind of pain.

"Then, let us go to the shelter," Giles said as he gathered his jacket together, "We still have to get the rifles together."

╟℣╢

Giles resisted the urge to gouge his eyes out and rip his ears off as Cordelia yakked her mouth about the latest style. One moment, she was a good person who loved Xander and helping people very much, the next…she was a damn floozy!

_She has many layers_, he thought to himself as she mentioned unmentionables to him, making him regret having each of them come in for therapy and training, due to Xander's request, _And all of them have several thousand personalities, each capable of breaking the Rose Window with a single screech._

╟℣╢

He waited, his brow filled with little beads of sweat that had absolutely nothing to do with the desolate heat of Southern California. He gathered up all his courage and gently raised his hand to the door before him. He wrapped his knuckles against the door three times and waited. After a few moments, the Englishman heard some motion on the inside, motion which was followed by the door opening, revealing a beautiful woman with blonde hair…Joyce Summers.

"Ugh, good afternoon," Giles stammered underneath the woman's deadly gaze, "Mrs. Summers, I was wondering if, if perhaps you might…wish to discuss certain-"

"If I want to talk about my daughter," Joyce stormed over him.

He nodded nervously.

"No, I don't," she growled angrily, "…I wish I could blame you, I really do. But, I can't now. I messed up, too. I must have if she left again," teardrops seemed to form in her eyes without any precedence, causing the Watcher to come forward in an attempt to consol her, only to have her hastily backpedal, "No. Don't."

"Joyce, you mustn't blame yourself," he tried to convince her but, how could he? He was blaming himself, along with everyone else involved, including the person in question.

"Why," she asked the one question he wasn't prepared to answer, "Why shouldn't I blame myself when you are?"

He couldn't bring himself to answer.

"I'm leaving Sunnydale," she sighed contemplatively, as though she were admitting this to herself and not him, "Let's face it, if she wouldn't stay the first time then, why would she even think of returning this time? There's nothing left for me here…except bad memories."

He felt tempted to ask her for her new phone number but, before he could even muster the breath to ask, she closed the door in his face.

╟℣╢

Rupert Giles sighed in distress as he placed the phone on the receiver. His friend, and fellow Watcher, Robson, had gotten a tip that Buffy was in Denver, the report being about a blonde girl fighting off a group of vampires. However, he couldn't find it in his heart to go off and search for her…not this time. Oh, he wanted to…he desperately wanted to, but…if she ran away a second time, after she had been found, what could possibly make him believe that she would stay a second time, as her own mother had asked? What was the point? She was selfish enough to put them all through this heartache again, probably justifying it to herself by saying that they'd be better without her. It was just plain selfish to leave again after just coming back, just because it was hard. When they had discovered the truth about him from Ethan and Eyghon, he hadn't run away from them. He had stayed and made amends for his actions, as best as he could. The transition was hard, especially on Jenny (he felt his heart clinch up as thoughts of his dearly departed flashed through his brain)…but, he had withstood the pain and had, eventually, won her back and his charges…his children had all stood by him. If she wasn't willing to stand by them when they were willing, then…maybe it was best if she didn't come back.

Besides, the reports had said she was a natural blonde.


	7. Special Forces

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

A/N(Jason): fair point on the dismissal, it can take a lot of time. But, Buffy proves time and time again that she cares little about their feelings or, to be fair, the feelings of those she considers inferior. For example, S4, during the Halloween episode, Willow brings her out for always taking command and for saying that they're all practically useless. Even after all that happened to them and, for instance, Willow's importance during the Zeppo episode with Jhe, she still acts like she's the only one who makes a difference. Half an hour, Hell no! But, better than nothing at all. It could end up being that that one brief period of time, you learn the one thing that can save your life. As for the lessons, the last time I remember Buffy taking lessons from Giles was during 'Helpless,' when he was teaching her the stones and, even then, she didn't bother learning anything about it, though, to be fair, it was only meant as a rouse to drug her (Giles was a moron for doing that, and I really think that it would have been different if ME hadn't changed the character dynamics a lot). Xander is not a completely competent leader, I am aware of this but, he is gifted in planning (Judge) and would have continued to develop but, the writers apparently wanted to cease developing these characters and just turn them into atmosphere (with few notable exceptions), leaving only Willow, Buffy, and Spike as the main characters, whereas before, it had been about the group and seeing things through all their eyes, not only Buffy's, though more so than the others. As for Willow's being into titles, I have to admit, you make a good point. But, then again, she was one of the characters that gets developed more. Kinda makes sense. And you are correct when it comes to the qualifications, none of them were battlefield generals, but, to be fair, both Xander and Buffy did lead at Graduation and, for example, after telling Wood that she'd let Spike eat him if he tried to avenge his mother again…just plain wrong. That would've been the last straw for me. But, again, to be fair, the 1st did want him gone so it could succeed. To be honest, I would have preferred to call in Riley and a bunch of commandos when B found the group at the Initiative. Sure, bullets might not have worked against the Ubers but, I'm pretty dang sure an RPG would dust a few of them. Amy came back in S6, and knew how and where to find Rack within a few days when Willow, a far more powerful witch, had never even heard of him…kinda tells me that she had met him before she became a rat and it explains how she knew more magic in S2 & 3 than she did in S1. Angel, in S1, saved B from the Three, staked Darla, and helped hold the vamps back, nothing else; in S2, he was a bit more helpful, definitely, he was coming into his own as a fighter but, he still did the selfish thing and slept with Buffy; plus, you're forgetting Willow's reaction to Jenny's death, though it does change later on (weird, if you ask me. Still blaming ME). And, yes, she did do her duty…at the last possible moment, when Angelus had already taken a lot away from the group, and, just to be clearer, his orders to attack while he kept Buffy away ended up with her in a coma. More hateful feelings, justified. And, Oz can turn into a werewolf but, that's not his fault, but Angel's turning into Angelus was. Even though he knew nothing of the curse, he still knew that sleeping with her was wrong but, he did it anyway, whereas Oz keeps himself chained up. Giles did have to make amends though, mainly to Jenny. They forgave him because they do that, just as they would have done for Buffy, and do, in the original series. She just had to work a little harder at it. And I'd like to amend something I've said before: I said that the conversation of statistics in demons slain was simply to fill a gap. In fact, it was meant to reaffirm Xander's suggestion of them taking over patrol until she gets settled in. To me, that seems very thoughtful. If I had just got home after running away, I'd like some time to relax and get back to the emotional level I was at before I'd ran before I went back directly into the swing of things. And, again, I agree that it was stupid to have a party, totally. But, as I said before, it was stupidity with the best of intentions (read the summary) meant to save Buffy, and themselves, from a conversation that none of them want to have. I said it before, and I'll say it again: they all did bad, but her most of all, and I blame Mutant Enemy! They should have spent more time developing all the characters, not just the ones getting the big bucks. But, that's show business. As to your confrontation…heated arguments are so much fun.

╟℣╢

_I am an American Special Forces soldier. A professional! I will do all that my nation requires of me.  
I am a volunteer, knowing well the hazards of my profession.  
I serve with the memory of those who have gone before me; Roger's Rangers, Francis Marion, Mosby's Rangers, the first Special Service Forces and Ranger Battalions of World War II, The Airborne Ranger Companies of Korea.  
I pledge to uphold the honor and integrity of all I am - in all I do.  
I am a professional soldier. I will teach and fight wherever my nation requires. I will strive always, to excel in every art and artifice of war.  
I know that I will be called upon to perform tasks in isolation, far from familiar faces and voices, with the help and guidance of my God.  
I will keep my mind and body clean, alert and strong, for this is my debt to those who depend upon me.  
I will not fail those with whom I serve. I will not bring shame upon myself or the forces.  
I will maintain myself, my arms, and my equipment in an immaculate state as befits a Special Forces soldier.  
I will never surrender though I be the last. If I am taken, I pray that I may have the strength to spit upon my enemy.  
My goal is to succeed in any mission - and live to succeed again.  
I am a member of my nation's chosen soldiery. God grant that I may not be found wanting, that I will not fail this sacred trust._

_"De Oppresso Liber."_

_- The Special Forces Creed_

╟℣╢

Mayor Richard Wilkins sat at his desk in his office, waiting. Today had been like many others for the politician: meetings with the review boards on appropriate reading materials for students, greeting Boy Scout troops in his office, sacrificing a virgin and bathing in her blood to aid with the smoothness of his ritual, and various other mundane things. That night, however, was not a part of his usual plans. Word had reached his advisor, Allen Finch, about a new player in Sunnydale. Someone calling himself 'The Eagle' was stirring up trouble in fair Sunnydale and he had no intention of taking it. Before, it had been necessary to keep the Slayer alive, just so that she could help keep all kinds of evil from stepping on his territory. Now, though, there were no big evils on the horizon and, with her having run away again, there was little to stop him…then word had reached his ears of this 'Eagle,' and he was infuriated. He had believed that all of his troubles were over till the Ascension but, then, someone just decided to come and foul it up. Well, he had no intention on allowing this person even a slim chance at finding out what he was up to.

He looked up upon hearing his office door open and smiled as his two guests, Frederick and Hans Gruenstahler, entered.

"Gentlemen," he greeted the two terrorists, "Have a seat. Now," he paused for a moment to allow them the opportunity to get comfortable, "I have a problem with a bird."

╟℣╢

Oz and Giles sat back in their chairs, waiting for their friend's judgment. The young man known as Xander was stood before the shooting range that the trio had erected inside the bomb shelter for his testing needs, the first model for his varied M-16 rifle in his hands. He was going over the weapon, making sure that it was capable of the task at hand. The cross on the barrel was a few inches back, to insure that it couldn't interfere with the rate of fire. Willow had found a spell that could create fire but, only from an experienced practitioner, as in, not him, along with a poison called 'Killer of the Dead' that provided a most painful way to kill vampires and the only cure for it was the blood of a Slayer…which was good, considering that there wasn't a Slayer on sight. He held back on the flow of emotion that tended to flow freely whenever he thought about his former friend.

As far as he was concerned, she had acted selfishly. He knew that she had known that it was hard but, he believed that that was all she had remembered when she had run away. If she had stopped and thought about everything they had told her, he really believed that she wouldn't have run…but, she did…so, she didn't. He sighed as he pushed all those thoughts away and leveled his weapon against the target. He waited for a moment, wondering why the dot wasn't coming up. After another moment, the dot came on, allowing him the assuredness that came with it. He had no doubt in his skills as a marksmen but, he wanted to see if the dot worked as it should. He looked through the transparent cross and to the target before him, took in a breath and began to let it out. As soon as he was ready, he pulled back on the trigger, causing the semi-automatic set modified version of the M-16 to let loose a small, hollow tipped bullet with a magnesium flare, a bit of holy water, and a small droplet of KTD (their selected anagram for Killer of the Dead) and force its flight through the air until it struck the target. Immediately, the center of the target lit up as the magnesium soft tip exploded. Oz got up and put out the fire before it could escalate with his extinguisher.

"I guess that proves that," Giles said from his place.

"No," Oz stated, "Field."

Xander nodded in agreement.

"Who's taking patrol tonight," he asked.

Giles pulled out his notebook and turned to the page he had marked for today.

"Ugh, you and Amy are taking the East side tonight," he flipped the page, "And Oz and Willow are taking the North. Xander, work your way toward the West, same with you and Willow, and meet at the…Crawford Street Mansion," he stopped speaking for a moment, raw emotion heavy in his eyes, before continuing, "Meet there, and finish up your patrol South, report in at the library. I've, ugh, installed a few vampire blockers around the area, you can meet up there for any medical emergency that might occur. If you do get injured, use the phone there to call the library."

"They didn't shut it down," Oz questioned.

"Ugh, no, as a matter of fact," Giles stuttered slightly at that, "It seems that Drusilla, as a matter of fact, bought the mansion, along with the phone service. She must have an accountant because they still have phone service there."

"Demonic accountants," Xander shuddered, "What next…lawyers from Hell."

"That's not actually impossible," Giles said matter-of-factly, "Wolfram and Hart is a demonically run law firm centered all over the Earth."

"…Weird," the two teens said together.

╟℣╢

Xander walked slowly through the park, his footsteps precise and controlled, never once making a sound. Behind him, however, was Amy. She was a powerful witch but, when it came to stealth, she held little skill. He sighed as he heard yet another slam of her foot against the concrete and came to a decision: they would never get a vampire to show themselves if she kept trumpeting around like elephants in a field of mice, so, he decided that they were going to play a different approach. He carefully set the safety on his rifle and eased it into his jacket, effectively covering it from all sight within the area.

"What," he heard Amy ask, causing him to believe that she had seen his action, "What is it?"

"Nothing, nothing," he sighed and looked around the area quickly, making sure that they weren't being followed, "So, who's teaching you?"

"What," Amy asked, wondering what he meant by that.

"Who taught you how to do all that mojo," Xander asked, "Before last year, you couldn't float a pencil. Then, I see you working that stuff on Mrs. Beakmen and the love spell, and turning Buffy into a rat. So, who taught you?"

She refused to answer. Xander took a breath to calm himself. If Amy was going to be part of their team, they had to be able to trust her completely. Withholding information that could be pivotal to their success as a unit was simply unacceptable. He wasn't about to say that to her face, no way. He did that, and she'd send a spell his way…plus, she'd get on the defensive and it could end up driving her away. Aside from that, she was still partially recovering from the incident with her mother. They had never once offered her counseling which, in his opinion, had been downright idiotic of them. They had made mistakes, without a doubt, and a bunch of them had gone on, unchallenged and completely ignored, Amy being one of the focal ones. Another was, of course, Marcie. But, that was one that was out of their hands…unfortunately. He hated the thought of the United States government having access to invisible agents, the use of which could seriously turn the scales of any political problems…or militant problems. Invisible snipers would be like a Godsend to the Special Forces.

Sighing, the commando reigned his instincts in and decided to go for a less direct approach. In other words, he was going to try and trick her into giving up her teach.

"It's just that," he paused for a moment, trying to decide how best to obtain his information, "You have such a talent for it, I wonder if it comes from you or from your teacher."

Praise often led to confidence, which also often led to overconfidence, which also often led to carelessness. Xander was once possessed by a drug dealer, a man capable of making deals with some of the lowest forms of life on Earth, a man who had, by all accounts, swindled and silver tongued some of the toughest negotiators in the Midwest or East. Except, of course, they were all addicts. But, one could very easily get addicted to praise so, he was hoping that she'd find it refreshing.

"Oh, no," she said with a somewhat proud smile, "It's all me. After all, no matter who the teacher is, it's up to the student to do it. I mean, I learned a little from watching my mother, dabbled a little afterwards, then I got lost around the back alleys, and walked right into Rack's place, and-"

She held her hand up to her mouth, realizing her fatal mistake. She had just babbled out the name of her teacher, all because she was getting praise, real praise, and wanted it for herself. Greed led her there, just as greed had led her mother to where she was now…with Corseth.

"Rack," he asked, feigning ignorance of the very useful bit of information she had just handed him, "Who's Rack?"

"No one," she answered all too quickly, "No one important, just a friend of mine, a warlock like Michael."

Xander nodded in understanding, though inside, he was grimacing. His skill was hiding his emotions behind a mask. Back before Buffy had abandoned them (he ignored the same twinge of pain that always accompanied that thought), he had lived underneath the guise of a clown. Now, after the reentrance of the soldier and the hyena, along with the introduction of J.D., he hid no longer, not from his friends. He had no reason to hide anymore. Before, he had hidden his true pain, his true self, simply because of Buffy and Willow, more the former than the latter. Buffy would have hated seeing the true Xander, the fierce warrior who was willing to give anything and everything. It would take away her feeling of superiority with the group, knowing that there was someone inside who had more dedication to the cause than her and, seeing as how she was fighting on the front lines all the time, he didn't want to risk making her completely upset. If it were up to him, they would all have been out on the front lines, never as the damn cleanup crew. But, that was then…this was now. Now, mistakes would be undone, different paths would be taken, and a new front to the war would be opened up. One where the supernatural were not fought by the supernatural, but where the humans fought, not as cheerleaders or groupies, but as soldiers for the front lines. For far too long, this had been taken as some silly extracurricular activity…from now on, they were never going to lose sight of the true goal: saving lives.

His thoughts were interrupted, however, as a blast of thunder echoed throughout the trees. The first thing he noted, before jumping into automatic and grabbing Amy and tossing them both into the cover of the bushes was the actual mark of the bullet. It had barely missed hitting his foot, suggesting a head shot, and the angle of which the skid against the concrete had come up had pointed that the shooter had fired from the hilltop to their immediately left…leaving them barely protected from visual at their current position. What mattered now was getting Amy to safety, then taking out whoever the Hell it was shooting at him.

"amy," he whispered as quietly as he could, "make a shield, camouflage us."

The witch nodded and began to mutter a spell. Within moments, he saw the area around them shimmer slightly. He tested the shield out quickly by placing his hand against it and felt that it was as solid as a boulder…but, against dynamite, a boulder was just a rock. He hoped that his would-be-assassin didn't have any TNT or C4…and if they did, God help them.

"They can't hear us," she said to him loudly, to exercise her point, "What do you want to do?"

"…Can you sense them," he asked, stretching out as far as his enhanced hearing and smell could, "I can't."

"No," she answered softly, "So, what do you want to do?"

"…Make those bushes shake," he pointed to a set of bushes less than two feet from them; after a moment of concentration from the witch, the leafs were brushed roughly. The reaction was instantaneous as the bushes were destroyed by a wave of rapid gunfire from the hill that he had selected firstly, and also from a position somewhere to his current left, too far for him to see, causing him to cuss in aggravation. At least now he knew where the competition was.

"Can you teleport me over the hill," he pointed to where he believed the fire was coming from.

She nodded, but looked somewhat fearful. Rack had made her do a teleportation spell once, and it hadn't turned out good.

"I have faith in you," he informed her, granting her a great bit of confidence in herself. Rack had never once told her that but, she believed him even as he said it. He knew she could do it…and she did. She quickly spoke the required spell, along with pulling out a bit of the required dusts (Mr. Giles, Xander, and Oz had designed a sort of magical utility belt for Willow and herself, containing small samples of dusts and crystals needed for spells) and within a second, Xander was atop the hill…where a man in Spec Ops camou garb was lying prone against the hill, his automatic assault rifle (_German, from the looks of it_, Xander thought to himself) trailed along the ground. Xander gently set his own rifle down and reached into his pack…where he kept a small hunting knife, clean and sharpened to the point of which even gently skimming it with a finger could leave you fingerless. The SF boy was dead in under a minute, from blood loss. Thankfully, the commando had managed to keep him quiet during his journey to Hell, so his partner had no idea what was going on. He pulled the man back along the hill and took the rifle of definite German origins. He got back into the prone position and took the bastard's ski mask, thankfully with no blood on it, and put it onto his head, effectively masking his identity to all present. He then got on his knee and held up his hand, signaling in the direction of his only remaining adversary to head down and meet him in the center. He got the basic signal for 'ok,' so the young man moved down the hill, his weapon up, as though expecting some kind of attack, and hoping that Amy didn't do anything. Just in case she did, he quickly got out of the sight range of the other soldier and pointed directly at Amy, then held up his hand for her to wait. He returned his attention to the other soldier and watched him come from behind a tree, his rifle held down towards the ground.

What he said was clearly German but, for some reason, he could understand it.

"What is it, Hans," the Kraut wannabe said to him.

"…They've gone," Xander responded in German, his accent heavy.

"Damn," he heard the other one say, "That Eagle sure is one tricky bastard. I can see why the boss wanted him dead."

"…Who was our boss again," Xander tried the ploy, hoping his act was convincing.

Now, when all of his luck had been holding well, the Harris Law decided to come in and play. The Nazi scowled at him from underneath his disguise and, without any hesitation, raised his rifle. Xander followed years of instinct and flew down to the right, firing as he did so. He felt a stab of pain along his left side, but he could tell, gratefully, that it was only a flesh wound, nothing serious. His opponent, however, was bleeding profusely on the ground…dead, without any doubt.

"Ugh, Amy," he called out, hoping that the witch was uninjured…and still there. His prayers were answered, thankfully, when she came out of the bushes.

"Where're you hit," she asked with a toned professionalism that reminded him of the Army medics back in Vietnam, few as they were. He pointed towards the wound and she ripped his clothing off (thankfully, Cordy wasn't around to yell and screech…or rip the rest of it off). The wound was small, barely noteworthy, and the blood flow was already lessened greatly. Without pause, she preformed a quick healing spell and his wound was confined with healthy skin. He resisted the urge to ask if he was bleeding internally, knowing that it would only serve to insult his friend.

"Radio Will and Oz, get them here to take care of the bodies," he stood up and brushed his body off, grateful for the immediate lack of pain, and turned his attention to the Krauts. He stripped them of their weaponry, gear, and several cool gadgets that he thought might be useful. The two waited around the area for awhile until they heard the stampeding of feet. Xander, of course, leveled his rifle up in their direction, only to lower it as he recognized friendlies.

"Xander," Willow shouted as soon as she reached him, "What happened?"

"We got attacked by two commandos, both of whom I killed," he said quickly, "Help get the bodies buried."

"Vamp graves," Oz asked.

"Vamp graves."

╟℣╢

Giles watched as Willow, Oz, and Amy left the library later that night. All four of his children had demonstrated a great amount of skill and courage on the battlefield, Xander especially but, that wasn't surprising, though it still made him proud. He felt the most amount of pride for Amy, in fact. She had performed remarkably well, from Xander's description of events, also filled with prideful remarks for the young witch. He could also tell, however, that Xander had managed to obtain a very valuable piece of information from Amy. He hated taking advantage of her trust but, they had to know who had trained her…and what had been taught to her. It wasn't because he didn't trust her, it was because he didn't trust what this man…or woman was teaching her. She was on the road to something that could very easily destroy her, and he refused to let it happen.

"His name is Rack," Xander informed him, "Don't know anything else."

Giles paused thoughtfully.

╟℣╢

The Lion's Den nightclub, The City of Angels:

The Lion's Den was a nightclub held in the seedy side of LA…in other words, right smack dab in the middle of the city. It was a club divided into sections. One was the average nightclub: dancing, alcohol, flashing lights. The second, however, was devoted entirely towards women's entertainment, with semi-naked and fully naked muscular gods all over the place. The third, naturally, was the average strip club for men. Three markets consumed, all in one building. Naturally, there was a high turnover in employees for the owner, what with all the drama of the bar and the pole, so that person was in an almost constant need for new talent. When a blonde petite bombshell with a ton of strength walked into the offices and demanded a job, she had stayed in her clothing for a total of ten seconds before havingitripped off and traded in for something more…stripworthy.

Thus explaining why, at that very moment in LA, when the gang ofteensback home were fighting evil in one of its worst forms, the blonde Slayer was dressed in a leather suit, somewhat similar to Xena's, but much more revealing, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. She was bending a steal bar, curving her back outward and smiling sensually as she accomplished her task. She then proceeded in practically screwing the bar as she ran it all over her body. As she did this, and much more, it did nothing to help cleanse the sick feeling she felt within her body. She hated doing this, hated degrading herself to a simple show for people that were just looking for a quick way to jerk off. But, her old boss had refused her, and she couldn't get a job anywhere else, no matter how hard she tried. So, she had done something that she swore she would never do again: use her body to tease men. She felt the same shame she felt every time she danced as she did whenever she thought back to Xander and their dance.

She had thought long and hard often as she danced, her body and mind separated through some form of meditation that she had perfected during her time. She had begun to truly believe the reasons behind her departure…she couldn't depend on her friends anymore, and they didn't need her. They had held things down well enough without her, and could do it again. They didn't need her…no one needed her.

Her shift ended. She went backstage to her dressing room, where she found herself encountered by a man that she had never hoped to see again.

"Hey, kid," Whistler said with a smile, his usual pimp getup still in place, "How fairs the Slay-"

He couldn't say anything more, however, as the blonde woman gripped his throat in her clutches and ground him into the wall.

"What do you want," she snarled at him, "Why can't you people get it through your thick heads that I want to be left alone!"

He tried to speak but, he couldn't, what with her hand in the way of his vocal cords. She sighed and decided to loosen up, just enough to let him speak.

"That's just the point," he said as she let go and rubbed his sore neck, "You're always alone…because you wanna be."

That stopped her short.

"Think about it," he said slowly, as though speaking to a child which, from his point of view, he was, "You drove your friends away when you got back from your summer with your dad, let them back in a little, and then…you basically forget everything when you and Angel get with the smutchies."

"I thought you were big with the cryptic," she asked him, annoyed at the balance demon's interpretation of events. He was Angel, she couldn't just kill him.

"Let me make this perfectly clear to you," he said with an intensity that didn't appear natural on the usually…unusual being, "There is no time. I'll be blunt: when you refused to stake Angel the first time, the Powers, the ones that granted YOU the Slayer spirit, were downright pissed off. But, they understood you had loved him, though they didn't like it, so they decided to give you time. You still didn't do it, so…their patience ran out."

"Jenny," she asked, thankful for any chance to alleviate her guilt over Giles's former girlfriend.

"Nope," her hope at innocence died, "Well, we did let her decode the spell, but only because you refused to do your job. Her death was strictly due to Angelus," _And me_¸ she filled the gap in with her thoughts, "Then, the final showdown. They sent me there when you were at your darkest, to help put you on a new path. See, you were supposed to send Angel, not Angelus to Hell, so that he could see that his actions held consequences. He wouldn't have truly understood it, not without the pain from Hell. He would have come back," Buffy felt her heart lift at the prospect of having her Angel back, "And he would have been different. He would have figured it out."

"Figured what out," she was confused.

"The true reason behind it all," he said, his cryptic back in place, "It's not about you, it's not about him, it's not about your friends…it's about the people who can't defend themselves. The innocent. You forgot that after you lost Angel. It became all about killing the evil, not about saving lives. All of you forgot it during that time, all except for one person."

"Really," she sneered, who could possibly be better than her?

"Xander," she snorted at him, but he ignored her, "Remember when Angel got his soul and you sent him to Hell," she gained a downtrodden look at that, but nodded, "He lied to you when he told you about Willow's message. She told him to tell you about the spell."

Buffy felt the urgent need to scream. She felt…betrayed, in the worst way. She had been lied to by her best friend and he had put her life in danger, and Angel's life in danger by not telling her. If she had seen it coming, she could have been better prepared, could have stalled. She could have been attacked easily when she saw him get his soul back but, no! Xander didn't think of that!

"Let me guess," Whistler took in a deep breath to control himself before continuing, "You feel as though he betrayed you and that he should have told you, right?" At her nod, he pressed forward, "Would you have fought even a quarter as hard," she shook her head with absolutely no hesitation, "But, would Angelus have?"

She paused…then, nodded. What difference could it make, she was the Slayer!

"And you almost lost when you were fighting at full strength," he reminded her, "How well do you think you would have done?"

She took a moment, just to say that she had, and really thought about it…and paled as she realized just how right Whistler was.

"Xander figured that out from your past actions. He lied to you, not out of jealousy, as you'd like to convince yourself, but because he knew that you would fail…and the world would go to Hell, along with yourself. So, he got his soul back and went to Hell, paid the price for forgetting the truth, what I taught him, and for allowing Angelus loose."

"He didn't know about the clause," she defended her undead lover weakly.

"No, he didn't," he agreed, "But, does that excuse him sleeping with a girl young as you, and when he is dead? He knew that your relationship would be, at best, doomed from the beginning of its existence but, he couldn't give enough of a damn about you to care. That gave him a bad rep with the PTB, one that would've gone far in his life. But, enough about him, let's talk about you."

She suddenly felt herself become very frightened as the demon's glare grew.

"You abandon your friends on the Hellmouth, and even when the situation is like that, you could have turned to them…like you were meant to! They thought you had more consideration, more morals…but, you proved them wrong. You put your feelings, your heart above the battle-"

"And my feelings aren't important," she questioned, her anger great.

"NOT WHEN COMPARED TO LIVES," Whistler's shout sent her stumbling back, so he took a breath and counted to ten to calm himself, "…A lot of innocent people died because you weren't there. Thankfully, your friends remembered the truth of it all with you and Ratface gone. They took up the slack and fought…and won several times, and lost many more. Why…because they were fighting a battle to hold the position, not overthrow it. They wanted you back, wanted to know where you were, wanted to help you…but, you wouldn't let them. Then, you come back, and leave the next night just because adjusting to them and their feelings is hard. Amazing how you think your feelings can mean so much, yet theirs meant so little. Things were hard, they were bitter, but…weren't you bitter when you found out about the prophecy," she felt her heart wither as she remembered that year, "You fought against it, tried to quit but, you saw Willow…saw what she was going through, what had happened, and you wanted it to never happen to another living person. So, you let your feelings go and took up the fight for the world. You did the right thing but, somewhere along the lines, you forgot that…forgot that with Angel and Angelus. You moved through the prophecy, even when the Master turned you in your nightmare, but you couldn't do the same with your friends."

"They left me to die," she said, thinking back to her dream where Xander and Willow watched as the Master, disguised as Giles, killed her.

"Xander and Angel didn't, and Angel only because Xander forced him to. But, none of it mattered…all because you thought they didn't want you around. They wanted things to be better but, it was hard for them, too. They tried to make it easier with the party, a stupid idea, but still, it was the thought that counted. So, you left…you were meant to try to, but not to succeed. Seems you have a knack for doing the exact opposite of what's best."

"Since when do the Powers have the right to control my life," she questioned him.

"They watch over mankind. When you and Angel took up the post to defend them, you fell underneath their jurisdiction. You were soldiers for the cause. To that end, after watching you abandon your friends, the Hellmouth, and right after coming back…and completely ignoring the feelings of unease you had that night-do you have any idea what happened after you left?"

She shook her head.

"A group of zombies attacked the house, looking for the mask in Joyce's room."

"What," she asked automatically, "What happened? Did anyone get hurt?"

"…Now you care, when you know what you missed out on," Whistler glared at her even more, "Yes, they're all alive, more than there would have been if you'd been there. They did better without you there, and that did loads for their confidence. It allowed a new champion the ability to rise and help the Hellmouth in ways you could never imagine. The torch has been handed over, Little Miss Slayer, and he's doing a good job. He managed to stop a few things that you would have missed, though, to be fair, he did have to kill people but, the world isn't the pretty black and white picture you've painted. People turn evil and sometimes, they can't be helped. That's life."

He took a moment to pause and get back on track, having lost it in pure emotion.

"…The Powers That Be have reviewed your actions and they have decided to put you on trial."

Buffy stared at him, unable to truly wrap her mind around this new piece of information. Before, back in Sunnydale, she had just figured that the spirit itself chose the Slayers, not some higher power. Now, she was being ordered to court because of what had happened. What the Hell?

"What The Hell," she asked the question aloud.

"It's not the first time it's happened," Whistler answered her, "A Slayer from Paraguay married a half demon who turned bad, she couldn't kill him, so he massacred seven towns before a rogue hunter shot him with a bow. Chickenfeed compared to Angelus. She was called to court to defend her actions and she kept on saying 'he was my husband, I couldn't kill him,'" he used a whiny voice similar to Buffy's as he said this, "The PTB watch over humanity, they can't put your emotions over the lives of others, it's unfair and against the rules they work with. They were understanding, though, and simply stripped her of her powers after she admitted that she screwed up, though it took a while. The same would be done to you, if you admitted you were wrong."

She didn't say anything, for she still believed that she was in the right about Angel, though she was sorry about what happened.

"If you don't then, the PTB will see that you haven't learned your lesson and will most likely never learn," Whistler sighed and took his hat off, "They'd kill you and, since you're not the Slayer, you'd just be dead."

"What," she raged at him, "I am the Slayer!"

"You're a Slayer, lady," he insisted, "When you die now, the spirit of the Slayer doesn't travel on. Hence, you're just a Slayer."

He allowed her a moment to take all this in. She was underneath direct assault from a force that she had absolutely no comprehension of and she had no way of countering it. That was the Slayer, but the girl had a basic instinct when faced with these kind of problems: shift blame.

"We didn't know about the curse," Buffy insisted, "How could I have stopped it if I didn't know about it?"

"Was it right to sleep with him," she looked down, indicating that she knew she was in the wrong there, "And, not even when he threatened you, your mother, your friends were you able to stake him. You were willing to hold off all just because you thought you weren't ready, even when you hated him. And, when you had the opportunity to get your boyfriend back, you took it. We all knew you would but, it was still shameful. Slayer, you're being charged with negligent homicide, manslaughter, dereliction of duty, improper conduct, poor judgment…in other words, you're going to lose your powers no matter what you do and, if you do admit that you messed up, which we know you wouldn't if you can pull the blame somewhere else, then you would live to tell the tale. Do you know why you're so successful," she shook her head, feigning ignorance, she was the best Slayer ever! "Because of your friends. If Pike hadn't have helped you during Hemery, you would have died. If your friends in SunnyD hadn't helped you, you'd be dead right now. Think about that."

He paused for a moment to catch his breath and put his hat on. Then, he redirected all his attention to her, making this Slayer feel, somehow,very insignificant, a feeling she hated.

"…I fought for you," she looked at him doubtfully, "Not for you, as my reasoning, but for Angel. He loved you deeply and, even now when he's suffering in Hell, he wants what's best for you. He's learned. But, that doesn't matter anymore, he's not coming back."

"He's not," she said, her voice tiny, "But, you said-"

"That was what would have been. This is what is. I fought for you and managed to sway the Powers to an alternative. You'll still have powers, though they'll be more along the lines of a vampire's instead of a Slayer, somewhat decreased agility, barely worth noting. Aside from that, you'll be every bit the Slayer you were…except, you won't be a Slayer. You'll be a Champion for the Powers. You'll fight evil, here in LA, you're not welcome on the Hellmouth anymore."

"You can't tell me where to go and where not to go," she argued.

"No, we can't, but your friends wouldn't appreciate seeing you again. Odds of you living would be slim."

"I'm the Slayer, they couldn't hurt me."

"Wrong, there, on both counts. But, think what you will. Aside from that, your mother has moved on, so the reasons for you returning are basically nonexistent. Now, as I was saying, you fight evil in LA, defend the helpless, do what you're meant to do instead of dancing on poles…though, you do it so well."

He grinned cheekily at her.

"…It's up to you to decide, kid," Whistler said as he began to walk to the door, "Later tonight, someone'll be by to get the answer. Later."

With that, the mysterious man left her dressing room, leaving the Slayer in LA to think.

╟℣╢

Lily looked up as the door to their single apartment opened up, revealing Buffy, or Anne as she was going by now. When Anne had come back from Sunnydale, she had been shattered by what had happened. From what she had said, her friends had been vindictive to her and would rather carry on without her. Needless to say, Lily had not liked it one bit so, she had insisted that the two be roommates so they could help each other through their pain. It was difficult and, in the end, they had to pretend to be sisters in order to explain it away from the other tenants. Tonight, Anne had been working in her strip club and, though Lily disliked it, she had to admit that it was making their living much easier.

Anne came in and tossed her jacket to the floor, clearly upset, and sat down on the bed.

"What's wrong," Lily asked immediately, wanting to comfort her friend.

Buffy just stared forward, lost. Then, out of the clear blue, she said…

"You know what I am," Lily nodded, "…I've messed up really bad. I left my friends behind on the Hellmouth to do my job-"

"But, the way they treated you," Lily tried to rationalize for her.

"Look from their point of view…besides, I think I was exaggerating."

Lily stopped at that. If Buffy thought she was exaggerating, then what really happened?

"They were bitter," she answered the unspoken question, "But, they had every right to be. And they tried to do what they could. I just…couldn't see that, wouldn't see that. Do you believe in a higher power?"

Lily shook her head. She hadn't believed in anything since she had left the vampire cult.

"There is a higher power," that made her gasp in awe, "And it's pissed at me for abandoning my duty. Don't," she held up her hand to stop Lily before she could try and help her feel better, "…Before, I kept my friends out because they didn't have powers. That doesn't matter…I get it, now. I think. The Powers That Be…offered me a chance to make up for it all. They want me to take up the fight here. I won't be a Slayer anymore…just a Champion for them. And, I want you to help me."

Buffy turned her head completely to face Lily and took both her hands, which were both shaking at the prospect of violence.

"Please. I can't…do this alone. Please, help me."

After a few moments of thought, Lily carefully nodded her head. She loved Buffy like a sister and would do anything she could to help her, or anyone else, for that matter. The runaway had gained a sense of morals during her time in LA and knew that, if she could help someone, she should. And, here she was, being asked to help. She wouldn't refuse.

Before either could continue in their moment of bonding, however, their was a knock on the door. Buffy shared a look with her and stood up to answer it. When she pulled it open, she found a man with dark hair standing there, a smile on his face.

"Buffy Summers," he asked in a heavy Irish accent.

"…Yes," she answered, "Who're you?"

"Oh, me name is Doyle, I was sent here by the PTB," he smiled at her, obviously entranced by her looks, "Can I come in?"

Buffy stepped back to allow him entry, an old Sunnydale habit, and the man had no trouble entering. He walked inside the small apartment and immediately noticed Lily.

"Well, hello," he greeted her, "I'm Doyle."

"Lily," she shook his hand, "I'm her sister."

He paused at that, his smile still in place, but nodded all the same.

"I'm in," Buffy got right to the point.

"Great," he slapped both his hands together, "Well, then, just to clear a few things up, I'm your visionary…I get visions from the boys upstairs so you know where to go," he elaborated at their confused looks.

"What are you," Buffy inquired, having little tact as she sensed something from him.

"…Half demon," he answered with a worried smile, "I'm not a bad guy, you know. Just got a weird bloodline."

Buffy nodded in acceptance. If she really was going to earn back her status as Slayer, then she was going to have to be more accepting of certain things, things that she couldn't change.

"We're going to need weapons," Buffy stated, "I'll start saving up from the tips I make, buy a few stakes, swords, the essentials."

"Tips," Doyle inquired, "You work in a restaurant?"

"Strip club," she answered without any thought.

"…Oh."

Before any more dialogue could be exchanged, however, the man gasped and clutched his head as a vision invaded his brain. Immediately, Buffy went to his side and helped him onto the bed while Lily went to go get some water. After a few moments, Doyle opened his eyes and panted. Lily walked back into the main room with a glass of water, which the Irishman accepted eagerly. He took a long drink and sighed.

"Girl near a bar on 45th," he said quickly, "'bout to be vamp food."

"Let's move," Buffy said.

She grabbed her jacket and a knife from the kitchen while Lily grabbed a stake and a cross from her bag. Doyle lingered for a moment as the two women left the apartment, then sighed.

"Me dad'd have a thing or two to say about this," he grumbled and he left the apartment.


	8. Sacrifice

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

A/N: Alright, you want it clear? They're all characters designed by ME and, as such, are not individuals, merely the creations of one conclave of minds and, ergo, their decisions and reactions are all caused by that conclave. From now on, I'll make it clear that I blame ME for all the shit. Satisfied? And Xander, as the ordinary guy? Yeah. But, look at Gunn. He was the ordinary guy of Angel's crew, but he could still fight. Leadership is important, but attitude goes right along with leadership. I'd have no problem following any of those characters, so long as they demonstrated some actual skill, which few do. Just barking out stuff ain't enough. It takes actual, intended thought, which most of them demonstrate a complete lack of, with few notable exceptions. And, as I said before, I bet an RPG could take out a few. If not, drop a dang nuke down the Hellmouth and take off running. As I mentioned before, yes, Wood was in the wrong in attempting to kill Spike because of the 1st's words but, Buffy was even more in the wrong for telling him that she'd let Spike kill him if he tried again. Personally, I would've gone after him once he was back in LA. To protect someone that you know is going to fight no matter what you do, save putting them in a coma, which goes against everything you stand for, would leave only one option: train them and give them what they need in order to survive. Fight on the front lines and keep them off them if you can but, when you can't, don't push them off…you lose valuable time doing so. And **don't** protect them, save them when it counts but, otherwise, let them take the hits. Teaches 'em to avoid them the next time. But only if it can't kill 'em, if it can, save 'em. It's only fair. Concern's all well and good but to try and keep fellow people away from the fight is simply wrong, they have a right to take up the stand and, if they want to, I say train them and guide them, don't keep them completely out. Joyce wasn't a bad parent, though she did have her faults but, when compared to nearly every parent I've ever met (haven't figured out the exact numbers but, it's somewhere up in the 50,000s) she did the best that anyone could expect for her situation. Feelings can also cloud judgment. Ire, rage, passion…all good for a fight when controlled but, when not controlled and you're an empowered person…be sure to knock the heads off your own friends while you're at it, eh? Whistler…yeah, I don't do enigmatic, I suck at it but, when it came to the lying…wrongo, he was talking about the plan at first (Becoming 1&2), then in the story, he was talking about what would have been and comparing it to what had become. Dialogue-wise…I'm building up. There will be a confrontation down the line so, don't hesitate. I'm purposefully holding her back, mainly because I believe a girl who went into stripping as a profession after what B did would either be humbled or overconfident and I prefer to build her up then take her away. And yes, the message is that normal people can take a stand…when they have to, just as the PTB expect with the Slayers. If they can avoid it, do so, not when you find out and choose to take up a post. And no, their job isn't to save lives, it's to watch over humanity…and every life either takes away or adds to humanity. They are the commanders of the army and, as such, hold no power over the actual thoughts of others. Besides, humans have just as many faults as they do benefits. The Slayers, in spite of what the Council did to them, did do their job. That was what mattered. Saving lives is all about changing things…which is what I'm doing with my story. But, there are some things that simply can't be changed, not then, possibly not ever. Look at the emotion of hate…can you possibly ever hope to change that, make it better? No. Hate will always exist so, you learn to adjust and make your way around it.

4 Wayne, she was still taking in the zombie attack. Thanks for your support, man. Always trying build up my skills as a writer, or downplay it when I get the instinct to charge up for something down the road.

╟℣╢

_Life begins perpetually... Life, forever dying to be born afresh, forever young and eager, will presently stand upon this earth as upon a footstool, and stretch out its realm amidst the stars._

_H. G. Wells_

╟℣╢

Salt Lake City, Utah:

She ran as fast as she could, hoping against whatever hope there was that she could outrun them. Faith had been in Salt Lake City for a few hours and already, Trick and his boys had found her. She didn't like running away from any creature, dead or living, but against the creature that had done…that…to her Watcher, she knew she didn't stand a chance. She ran into the first warehouse that she saw, hoping that she could gain a little bit of ground over her pursuers, all of whom intended to drag her kicking and screaming to Kakistos. She ran in through the basement access on the left side, hoping that she could just hold them off enough to lose them. Unfortunately, fate had other plans, for even as she hid near the boiler room, she knew they were there.

"Spread out," she heard Trick's accented voice command, "Find the girl, drag her back to the master."

She heard the pitter patter of feet throughout the concrete building and became afraid. She was the tough girl, the one who fear feared…and she was afraid, now. The badass…scared, of course! She hated this, she wanted them all to fry in…

"…Hell."

╟℣╢

Trick stopped short as his nostrils were invaded by a foreign scent.

"What the Hell is that," he wondered aloud.

Famous last words.

╟℣╢

Faith watched from afar as the warehouse exploded, thankful for the little to no resistance as she made her dash for freedom. Around thirty vamps or so had been in that building, along with Trick. Luckily, though, gas pipes were completely exposed, so she didn't have a problem setting the thing on fire. Kakistos would be coming after her himself now, pissed off as Hell about the loss of his lieutenant. Oh, well.

"Bring 'em on," she muttered as she took a puff of her cigarette.

╟℣╢

Los Angeles, California:

Anne Sumner looked around the small office that Doyle had managed to obtain for their new Private Investigations firm, which Lily had insisted on being named 'Slayers, Inc.,' partly due to her former title as a Slayer, and because she was a fan of Mystery, Inc., Scooby Doo, and all that. She had had to smile as she heard it for the first time. No matter what she did, she could never escape being identified with Scooby. It was the beginning of her new life…away from her friends.

She had thought long and hard about what Whistler had said and…had come to a similar conclusion. Though she still did believe that she was in the right, at least a little, over wanting to give Angel his soul back, she could understand the other side of it. She had also taken a brief moment to call her mother's house. No one answered, save a machine to inform the callers that whoever had lived here had moved on. She had called Giles at his apartment but, had only received a busy signal. She was grateful, in a way. She didn't know if she could own up to their reactions just yet. She was still struggling with herself, with Angel…and she still wasn't sure how to deal. She didn't even want to think about what Xander would say, let alone Willow, though she knew that the redheaded witch would fold over anything to do with the blonde…Champion.

It was still hard, not being able to think of herself as a Slayer. She felt as though a part of her had been taken, and she wanted it back desperately but…she couldn't even dream of regaining what she lost, not until she had atoned for her mistakes. It was what was fair, even to her. She wanted to make up for her mistakes and reconcile with her friends but, that ship had sailed, judging from what Whistler had said. Aside from that, they really didn't need her anymore. A new guy had moved into town, his first 'escapade' having been rescuing a group of bound werewolves from a witch who had been torturing their kind for decades. They had called him 'The Eagle.' Whoever he was, she hoped he could handle the Hellmouth, and that her former friends were helping him. They didn't deserve to be kept out of the fight.

She had also realized something incredibly important during her time. When the Order of Taraka had tried to kill her, she had wanted to stay in the fight, no matter what. She had been on the other side, the normal, powerless side of the fence without realizing it. She knew how they felt, but was too selfish to realize it. And she hated herself for it. All the more reason for her to work on herself and atone for her mistakes.

"Princess," she looked up as Doyle came into her office, "Vision. Near Hollywood."

"You okay," she questioned and, at his nod, said, "Let's role."

╟℣╢

Sunnydale, California…the Hellmouth:

Rack looked up as two figures came through his door, one being an older Englishman with a deep core of black, hidden underneath a shade of gray. The other…boy, he was frightening. He had a stone solid core, highlighted with neon green, green as his eyes. His eyes, interestingly, held a cold ferocity that told of a life of death and killing. Whereas, the boy wore a sardonic smile, one like a jester would wear. He was good at being undetected.

"Can I help you, gentlemen," he would have offered them a buzz, but…something told him that it would be better if they never learned about what he did.

"Rack," the Englishman asked.

He nodded carefully, completely flummoxed at the man's tone of the question, along with the boy's demeanor. He just wanted them to go so he could get back to his carefree lifestyle.

"You have a girl, Amy," the boy asked sharply, in a tone that guaranteed pain if answered untruthfully.

"…" he kept silent, but that was enough of an answer for them.

"You will not ever touch her again, do you understand me," for effect, the Englishman clutched Rack by the neck and slammed him against the wall. Rack tried to gather power enough to force him away but, found it all completely destroyed when compared to the older man's power, "If you do, I will get out of my young friend's way and, let me assure you, you would prefer my company when compared to his."

The youngling smiled evilly, maliciously…it terrified him.

╟℣╢

It was sometime later when another figure came into Rack's place, a man who held more power than the mage had ever felt.

"God," he whispered as he felt all that dark energy.

"Oh, no," the man said with a friendly smile, "I'm just a concerned citizen, Mr. Rack. Please…call me Boss."

The Mayor smiled.

╟℣╢

Xander walked along the quad as he waited for Cordelia to show up. Today, they were going to talk to Amy and explain their actions to her and hope that she was understanding. If not, then everything they had done would be for naught, and she would go crawling back to her 'teacher.' Giles had checked up on Rack and had discovered that the man was no better than a drug dealer. He supplied mages with a magical fix, one more potent than any form of enhancement that modern medicine could create. The man was dangerous and was suspected in several acts of murder. Willow and Giles were already together in the library, looking up ways to stop Rack. While it was not illegal, per se, it was immoral and needed to be shut down before someone seriously got hurt. They would try to get his powers bound but, it might not even be possible. He wanted to help Amy, _they_ wanted to help Amy, but…they might not be able to help her if Rack's still around to give her her buzz.

He paused in his wait as Cordelia came up. He would have met her in the library but, she was going to cheerleading practice and, what with his new 'status' due to J.D., she wanted to put on a display to ensure her dominance over him. Joy.

╟℣╢

Amy walked into the library, her face twisted into a worried expression. Rumors had been going on along the magic community that Rack and his skills had somehow been taken off the market. She had no option other than to believe that her little slipup with Xander had led to this and she would not allow it to stand. Rack was her mentor, he taught her more magics than her mother had ever even deemed capable of herself, and he deserved better than this.

The first thing she noticed as she walked into the library was the presence of all the Scooby Gang. Xander and Giles stood at the head of the table, with Cordelia off to the left, and Willow and Oz to the right of Giles. She angrily stormed up to them, intending on getting her answers and on doing whatever she could for her mentor.

"What did you do to him," was her first question, asked even as she began to build up power.

"…Sit down, Amy," Giles instructed the young witch, "We need to talk."

"No," she responded angrily, "I want to know what you did to him!"

"What was necessary," Xander answered her question, harshly, "He doesn't give a rat's ass about you, Amy! All he gives a damn about is getting fixed and getting what he can from you, and everyone else like you!"

"You don't know him," she snarled out at her friend, enraged by his words, "He taught me everything I know about magic, and I refuse to let this happen to him."

"What…" the Englishman took off his glasses and began to polish them, "Exactly…happened to this man, Ms. Madison?"

"He's disappeared," she answered furiously.

"…We didn't tell him to get gone," Xander stated, "We just told him to leave you alone."

"What," Amy muttered in disbelief, "No," she clutched her head, the feeling of need for her magic and Rack growing in intensity, "No, you must…must have done…something to him, to make him leave…"

Without thought or remark, she took off out the library, leaving the Scoobies stunned. Giles stared after her, his fear for his young charge growing by the minute. He shook his head and began to clean his glasses even more, before sitting down to think.

"…Should we just," Xander began, his voice strained with barred emotion, "Let her go?"

"She might go to find Rack," Willow reminded him, then, she sighed, "I can't believe she let it go this far."

"Don't believe that it cannot happen to you," Giles sternly responded, "You used magic in such a manner before I began to train you. It would be, and always is, remarkably easy to fall into that pit. You'd be benefited to remember that, Willow."

The redhead nodded, understanding his fear for her, but still believing that she, hopefully, would never allow it to go that far.

"I'll go after her," Xander stated inarguably, "Willow, come with me. I'll need help to get her if she is there."

"Xander, I must object," Giles remarked to his request, "I do not want Willow to be anywhere near that man."

"But, Amy is fearful of us right now, and hateful," the young man reminded him, "She might feel less animosity to Willow than you. The only reason why I'm coming is because I don't trust that man, and if he does anything to her, he will not live to see tomorrow. Willow?"

She nodded, somewhat scared by her friend's intensity, but she was growing more accustomed to it. As she stood to follow him, she wished that she never had to grow accustomed to it.

╟℣╢

Amy ran into Rack's place, having easily found it with her magical skills, and began to repeatedly knock on the door. She was already on her reserves and needed his tutelage if she was going to get through this. Finally, after causing her knuckles to come open and blood to flow from them, the door opened, revealing an ecstatic Rack with a business suit on.

"Rack," she rushed forward and enveloped her teacher in a hug, which he returned fluidly, "I was afraid that, you had gone, and left me-"

"Shh," he whispered into her ear, even as his hand reached out towards the desk, "Everything's going to be alright now, Amy. I'm not going anywhere."

She smiled, happy to have him back, then collapsed to the floor. Rack marveled at her limp body, clutching a small syringe filled with tranquilizers. He smiled even more as he put the syringe down and withdrew his new cell phone. He pressed a button, activating the speed dial, and waited patiently for his boss to answer.

"…Hello," he heard the Mayor's voice call out.

"Mr. Mayor," Rack greeted his employer, "I have our sacrifice."

Amy whimpered, as though somehow knowing what fate had in store for her next.

╟℣╢

"It's right over here, I think," Willow pointed down an alleyway, with Xander right by her side, his Desert Eagles secured inside their holsters, "I'm just going by what Giles said I would feel, I'm not sure if it is his place or not."

As the two continued to walk, however, they seemed to pass into some kind of barrier, which parted expertly before them, revealing a shabby apartment.

"I think it's safe to say that we found it," Xander muttered, even as he pulled out his Eagles, grateful for the comforting feel they provided, "He here?"

"I don't feel anything," the redhead answered quietly, "I just…feel sad, like being here is just wrong."

"Good," he remarked as he walked towards Rack's main door, "I hope it stays that way."

Without word or pause, the young man walked up to the door and twisted the knob until it came open, then went on through. The first thing he noticed was that the sparse room was empty, completely void of life. The second thing, and most important, he noticed was the syringe on the desk, with a piece of paper underneath it. He walked over to it and lifted the syringe up, sprayed a little bit of the remaining substance onto the desk, and waved the smell over to him.

"…Tranquilizer," he confirmed his suspicion, then drove his fist into the wall.

"Xander," Willow reprimanded him, "Find Amy now, kill bad wall later."

He nodded in agreement, silently vowing to make Rack pay for this. He shook his head to clear the red, then took hold of the piece of paper.

"…Lurconis," he read the scribbled down note, trying to remember where he had heard that name before, but drawing up a blank, "Willow, you ever heard of him."

She lifted her head up to the sky, trying to remember the name, but also drew up a blank. She shook her head.

"We're starting academic training next week," Xander stated, "Alright, to the Enterprise!"

"The Enterprise," Willow asked laughingly as she followed Xander out the building, "Is that what you named your car?"

"Of course," he said with a grin, "I was a Captain back in Nam, ergo, I am Captain of the Enterprise."

Willow smiled as he left the building, then followed after him.

╟℣╢

"Giles," Xander spoke into the radio as Willow drove down the street, "We're looking for a something named Lurconis, I think it's a demon."

"It is," he could hear, literally hear, the cleaning of his glasses from the other side of the phone, "It's located, um, in the sewers, near the hospital. Every thirty years, he requires a tribute…babies."

He growled into the radio, then said, "Giles, is this tribute late?"

"…Yes," the answer came.

"Someone's trying to make up for it with a mage," he stated quietly, "Hospital, Willow!"

"Aye, Captain," Willow said sardonically, before turning down the street, literally spitting into the speed limit's face.

"Meet us there," he told Giles on the other end before ending the signal, then turned to Willow, "Warp six, Number One."

╟℣╢

Rack watched from afar as the Mayor's vampires anointed Amy's succulent body in preparation for the feeding. He did not appreciate working for the Mayor but, when it came to the kind of power this man was offering, it was not something that he could simply ignore. It was even worth getting rid of his star pupil. Oh, well. At least he'd get to see her nude form once more before she died.

"Cancel my three o'clock," the mage looked over to his employer as he finished his phone call. The man may act like some concerned servant to the people but, deep down, he was just as bad…Hell, he was worse than Rack.

╟℣╢

Xander and Willow lay on their stomachs, looking down at the group with frowns stuck to their face. They refused to allow this to happen but, they needed reinforcements. There were eight vampires there, along with Rack and some other guy in a suit whose face they couldn't see. If it had been just eight vamps and a suit, they would have gone on in but, Rack had access to magics that none of them would ever hope to have, and would never use. That alone made the situation dangerous enough to require assistance. The two looked up as they heard a familiar noise, which turned out to be Giles in his Citron, with Cordy and Oz in tow. Oz was armed with their first prototype of the pump-action crossbow (see 'Cheating') while Cordelia had a battle axe in her hands. Giles was armed with one of the M-16s that the group had made. Fortunately, all their weaponry had been modified by a constraining spell that allowed only the group the ability to use these weapons so, if they lost them and someone else picked them up, they would immediately feel a jolt and drop the weapon.

Xander held a finger up to his lips to silent any greeting they might come up with, then pointed down the manhole. He then poked Willow, getting her attention, and pointed to her, then held up his hand towards where it covered his eyes, then pointed down into the tunnel. Willow, having played games with Xander all her life, understood this as 'You blind them.' She nodded and began to recite a spell designed to create a flash bang, of sorts. As she finished, a flash of light down below jolted throughout the sewers, followed instantly by pained groans and shouts. Xander quickly jumped down the manhole and landed in a crouch, then ran for cover against a pillar. He withdrew both his pistols and leveled them against the already mobile vampires, then opened fire. His first shot struck one in the foot, catching it on fire, but the demon managed to put the fire out by stamping his foot down. His second shot was better and struck one of the unholy creatures in the chest.

Before he could fire again, however, he heard a twang and turned to see Oz, pumping another bolt into the bow, followed by the familiar sound of a vampire dusting.

"Good to see it works," he muttered to himself, then turned to see that all six vampires were charging, "GILES!"

The Englishman stood tall and opened fire onto the herd, causing two of them to stop and crumble into dust, while the other four continued on. The group charged at them, intending to go hand-to-hand. Xander took on a large vampire with no hair. The vamp launched out with a devastating punch, which Xander dodged, but only just, and the force of the punch knocked rock out of the pillar. The young man drove his foot into the vamp's gut, grimacing at the rocklike abdomen, then followed through by pistol-whipping the son of a bitch in his head with both his guns. The demon fell backwards, but only slightly, but more than enough for Xander to level his pistols on him and pull both triggers, sending him to Hell.

╟℣╢

Oz shot at his vampire, a blonde bodybuilder, but the vamp just plucked the bolt out of the air and tossed it to the ground. Before Oz could pump in another bolt, the vamp swatted the bow out of his hands, but was also sent back by a jolt of electrical pain that forced him back a few feet. Oz reached along his belt and withdrew a stake-knife, the kind that Xander had proposed, and switched the blades out, creating a crosslike weapon. He held it up to the vampire to block it. The vamp held his hands up and hissed, giving the werewolf enough time to do what he needed. He charged forward and drove the left blade into the vampire's ribcage, then followed through as he ripped the blade out and drove the stake home into the chest, devastating the heart and forcing the vampiric entity to fall into dust.

╟℣╢

Giles held his now empty weapon out, cross in front, to keep the demon away while he attempted to reload. The vampire charged forward, all of a sudden, and tried to grab the weapon away, only to be burned as he touched the still-hot barrel. Giles drove the barrel into the demon's stomach, causing it to growl out in pain at the heat and the holiness of the cross. The Englishman finished reloading at that point and opened fire into the demon's body, causing it to collapse into dust.

╟℣╢

Cordelia hefted her heavy axe up and slammed the blunt side down upon her vampire's neck, causing it to fall down as it charged her. She groaned as she realized that she had used the wrong part of the axe and shifted it in her grasp but, before she could slice its head off, the vamp struck out with his hands and brought her down to the ground. Before she could react, however, the demon got on top of her and tried to reach down and bite into her. She screamed out and used both her arms to drive the axe to her right, slicing into the demon's jaw and causing him to fall off of her in pain. She got to her knees as fast as she could and used the pointed end of the bottom of the axe to drive it deep into the vampire's chest, causing its unlife to come to an end.

╟℣╢

Willow stood inside the sewer, looking around for her target. She found him standing near Amy, muttering something underneath his breath. She growled underneath her breath as she realized that he was trying to mutter a teleportation spell and unleashed a firebolt in his direction. He just barely noticed in time and leapt out of the way, causing the bolt of fire to slam into the wall, sending out chunks of debris all over the place. She followed up on her attack with another bolt of fire, but once again missed as he created a protective shield around himself. She felt something inside of her grow increasingly dark as she felt pure hatred for this man and she began to bombard his shield with all of her energy. Within sheer seconds, the protective barrier collapsed onto him, allowing the magic of her being to slam into him. Several organs, most notably the liver and kidneys, shut down automatically underneath the sheet force of it all, while others worked hard to adjust to the change and the pain. Rack wailed out in agony, begging her to stop. She didn't, however, and her eyes and hair continued to turn black as she used more of her energy against the man.

Finally, she just gave out and collapsed to the ground. Had she been stronger, she would have destroyed the man within a second but, she was not strong enough. She was not sure how she would take this, once it was all over but, she knew that something had to be done. She knew that…she couldn't allow that to happen again.

She heard only the breathing of the evil man. Nothing else was moving. Slowly, unsteadily, she flipped herself onto her back so that she could see behind her. Standing there, with their eyes shocked, were her friends. All of them were looking at her with a mixture of fear and oddity, as though they were not sure how to take it. The decision was made for them, however, as a moan echoed within the small space. Immediately, Giles rushed past her and Rack to check on the now-awake Amy. Xander walked past her, as well, his gaze lingering on her for a mere moment, before coming up to Rack, leveling both his weapons against the man's heart and head.

Oz came over to her and knelt down before his love, but she could not meet his gaze. She had lost control and, for one agonizing period of time, she had become exactly what Giles had warned both herself and Amy of becoming. She had used her powers to harm a man, unnecessarily in her anger, and he would probably be lucky if he could walk again. She felt sorry, but not for him. She felt sorry for the fact that she had allowed it to go that far.

Giles took his jacket off and wrapped it around the small girl before him, before lifting her up in his arms. She was wide awake now and was smiling gratefully at him. He nodded understandingly and walked away from the small body of water that she had been placed near. He stopped, however, once they came to Rack. Xander reached down and harshly lifted the man to his feet and held him there so that he could remain standing. Before any could say a word, however, Amy spoke.

"…Rack," the pained man looked up at his former pupil, knowing just by looking at her that he would be lucky if he survived, "If you really are my friend, you'll stay away from me. And, if you really aren't…you'll stay the Hell away from me."

That being said, Giles opted to simply glare at the man before moving on. Oz helped Willow to her feet and helped her to make her way towards the manhole, where they intended to take their leave. Cordelia waited behind for Xander, who tossed the dirtbag into the ledge of the water. He did not move an inch. He sighed and replaced his pistols into their holsters, then walked over to his girlfriend. The two wrapped an arm around each other and followed the rest.

Once they left, Rack was still in his place, unable to really move. He tried to draw strength from his magic and, finally, he was able to. He crawled atop the ledge and slowly got to his feet, intending on making his escape down the tunnel to his left. Instead, he lost his footing and fell into the water. He splashed around for a moment, but stopped altogether as he heard a rumbling down the tunnel behind him. He slowly turned his head around…just in time to see a gigantic snake come up. He screamed as it clamped its jaws down on him, forcing him down the beast's inner body and into its stomachs. As it crawled back into its tunnel, however, a beeping could be heard inside its body. The beeping stopped, suddenly, and that was followed by fire.

The bomb that had been meant for the mage had, in fact, destroyed the demon, as well.

╟℣╢

Giles, Amy, and Willow sat together in the library the next morning.

"…I'm," Amy took a breath to steady herself before continuing, "Sorry for not believing you. I should have known better and…I'm sorry."

"I don't want to hear 'I'm sorry,'" the Englishman muttered, "I want to know what you intend to do about it."

"…I want to get better," Amy answered steadily, "I want to get better and make up for what happened."

"The best way you can do that is to continue on," Giles responded with a weary smile, "Continue on with your training, learn to control your magic and to not let it control you."

"…Besides," Willow interrupted the Englishman, "I'm the one who should be sorry. I almost killed him, Giles. I lost control and…I almost killed him. I need to learn control, too."

He smiled at his theoretical daughter, grateful that she had realized that all on her own.

"…Rack is dead," his statement sent a shockwave through Amy but, she knew that he had gotten nothing less than he deserved, "Xander planted a remote detonator on him while he was holding him up. With the injuries he must have sustained from your attack, I believe it was more of a…mercy killing. We will go back to the sewers tonight to eliminate Lurconis. For now, go to class. Meet back here right after school and we'll begin training again."

The two mages nodded and left the library.


	9. Rocky Mountain Way

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

_The art of living is more like wrestling than dancing.  
_

_Marcus Aurelius_

╟℣╢

Rocky Mountains, Wyoming:

Faith groaned aloud once more at her predicament. She had managed to hitchhike all the way up to Wyoming (her last carrier had been a jackass and lied through his teeth to get a chance to get into her pants) and now, she was stuck in the middle of the Rockies. Damn near literally, too. It was sunset and she was rapidly losing her light. She had never been camping before, nor had she ever been this far Northwest. It was literally her first time in a mountain range…or in Wyoming, for that matter. She wasn't enjoying it.

She sighed and continued along her beaten path, thankful that she knew enough geography to know that she was heading South, the general direction of Denver, Colorado. Her best hope was that she would eventually make it out of the Rockies and onto the highway, hitchhike even more, and make her way there. She hoped that the other Slayer, Buffy, hadn't moved on yet. If she had, then she had planned on turning back towards Sunnydale. Word had reached her ear in Salt Lake City that there was a new player on the Hellmouth, a badass soldierific guy called 'The Eagle' who had been taking out demons left and right, along with his crew. It was so weird, hearing about a group of people fighting vampires but, to her, they had every right to do it. They may not be as strong or as fast as she was but, that didn't mean they couldn't contribute to the fight. She had heard rumors, also, that B had been working with a group in Sunnydale but, if she had been, then why was she currently on the run and not with them? And what if they were the same group as the Eagle's?

She pushed such thoughts away, figuring that she would deal with them when the time arose. Right now, her main concern was to make her way out of the Rockies and to Denver. She looked up at the sky and saw that the sun had gone down, with only her eyes left to see. She decided to make camp here and try to move on at first light. She didn't feel like falling into a chasm and to her death. She searched around the area she was in and found enough sticks and wood to create a small bonfire, which she placed in a flat leveled clearing surrounded by stones to keep the fire in check. She lit a leaf with her lighter and tossed it onto the pile and, soon, she had a roaring fire to keep her company. She stared into the fire, wishing that she had some food.

"Wait a minute," she muttered to herself, "I'm a Slayer. I should be able to scrounge up a damn wildebeest or something."

So, she began to search around the area, keeping low to the ground and not making any sound, always within view of her campfire. Soon, she did manage to find some food. No meat, just a bunch of berries that her instincts told her weren't poisonous. Her first vegetarian meal…Her last, if she could help it.

╟℣╢

It was later that night, around three in the morning, she reckoned, when the Bostonian had been awoken by an inner instinct older than mankind, or, at least, as old as mankind. It was one that few could develop, but one that every single member of her kindred had upon being called. It was a kind of spider sense, as she called it, and it was telling her that she was not alone. She opened her eyes quickly and immediately got to her feet. She was surrounded by fifteen vampires, each of them with their game face on. Her attention was not on them, however. It was on the single vampire making his way up to her front.

"Kakistos," she muttered in fear.

"Faith," the Master Vampire greeted her sadistically, "You and I have had fun playing the cat and mouse but, now, I think it's time to end it all."

The vampire struck out in a blur and slammed his cloven fist into her cheek, sending her sprawling to the ground. She felt tears begin to well up inside her eyes. The blow hadn't hurt that much but, that wasn't what the tears were for. They were for herself, for her Watcher…she was soon going to join her, somewhere, hopefully up there. If not, then she would be waiting in Hell to make this bastard's damnation as joyful for herself as she could.

Before she could get up, the Master Vamp had clutched both her shoulders in his hands and lifted her up. She stared fearfully into the face of the demon, her own personal demon, and wanted to do something as a last act. She settled on the only thing she could think of. She spat into his face.

He growled at her and threw her down to the ground.

"For that," Kakistos wiped the layer of spit off his face, "I will make your death last a day longer."

Before any more could be said or done, however, a sound filled their ears. To Faith, it was familiar, as well as welcome. It was a twang, followed by a whistling throughout the air. It ended its tirade with a dulling thud as an arrow embedded itself into the Master Vamp's shoulder, causing him to scream in pain and fall to the ground. They all looked on, confused as to why the arrow was hurting him that much when he had taken 9mm bullets to the chest and just laughed. The answer came, however, as a sizzling overcame his screams, followed by steam rising off the wound.

"KILL HER," the injured Master cried out, causing all of his soldiers to go into action and charge at her. While Faith held inhibitions when it came to Kakistos, she held none when it came to his lackeys. She bent down quickly and hefted up the biggest log she had found and drove it into the fire. She pulled it out quickly and slammed it into the first vampire to come her way, right into his chest. She let it stay for a moment, causing him to catch on fire. He was dust in a second.

She turned away and ducked another blow and drove her makeshift flamethrower into the vamp that had tried to hit her, causing it to light up. She pulled back and hefted the log up until it slammed into another vamp, sending it high into the air. Before she could continue on in her attack, however, another arrow flew through the air. She didn't see where it landed but, knew from the sound, that it had struck its target. She took a quick moment to see how the situation was and found that most of the vampires were gone, either dust in the wind or runnin' like the wind. She couldn't blame them. After all, who wants to take on a Slayer and a bunch of bless arrows?

She turned her attention to her nightmare. Kakistos was still on the ground, painfully trying to pull the arrow out. She knew that it was time for her to end this, and she knew exactly how.

"Hey, shithead," the vamp stared up at her, his gaze flinty, "Remember how you finished her off?"

She plunged her log into his crotch. He screamed in agony as the scorching heat roamed along his privates and up his body. Finally, he crumbled to dust. The Dark Slayer sighed in relief as she felt a great weight literally lift off her shoulders. She sighed and tossed the log away into the nearly dead fire, hoping to relight it, then…she collapsed to the ground, exhausted from raw emotion. As she drifted off, she wondered whatever happened to her mysterious benefactor.

╟℣╢

Faith woke up at dawn's first light. She would have stretched out along the ground, like she usually did whenever she woke up, but found herself inhibited by something along both her arms. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking the sleep out of them, then looked around. She had expected to waken to her campsite but, instead, she had awoken upon a brown horse. She heard the clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop, and began to wonder if she was dreaming. That theory was taken away, however, as she noticed that someone had their arms around her waist and was holding onto the reigns.

"Morning," she heard a voice say behind her, "You alright?"

Faith turned her head to try and get a better look at whoever it was but, found that she couldn't, so she opted to go by her other senses. From the sound of the voice, it was female that she was with, one remarkably fit judging from the feeling that she was getting on her backside. The voice held a hint of the South, not exactly redneck but, more like a drawl. It wasn't noticeable exactly, but, it was there. She wore no jewelry, at least on her hands.

"Who are you," Faith found herself asking.

"Lozen," she heard the woman behind her respond, "I helped you out last night, Faith."

Faith's memory went back in time and she did, indeed, remember being helped out…in the form of arrows.

"Could you stop, please," Faith questioned the rider, "I'd love to get this figured out before I have to get mean."

The figure behind her simply chuckled at her but, she could feel her pull the horse back and they came to a stop at a flat area just a yard away from a hill. The woman got off first and settled down to the ground, followed by Faith, who managed to get herself tangled up in the saddle before having to be forcibly dislodged by Lozen. Once she was safely upon the ground, Faith took a breath and turned her gaze to her savior.

She was definitely fit, that much she had right on the off. She stood about a foot taller than Faith herself and was, by far, much more attractive. She had tanned skin, almost red, brown eyes, and a head filled with long strands of beautiful, blonde hair. She was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a brown leather shirt with no sleeves and tassels along the front and on the back. She had on a pair of cowboy boots and a headband with markings all along it. Strapped to her left shin was a dagger that reminded the Bostonian of something she had seen in one of the museums, the Native American exhibit, to be precise. Also, a quiver was strapped by a single bond along her front to her back. It was filled with long, wooden arrows, each made with a different kind of feather. The arrows themselves each held different markings, one or two even having a cross on them. The leather shirt exposed her stomach completely, revealing an abdomen that reminded Faith of granite. Her shirt, however, was tightly wrapped over her swelled chest, giving her a look that screamed 'sexual predator.' Faith already liked this woman.

"Well, an Indian bombshell," she smiled sensually, "I like the look."

For some reason, she automatically felt bad for using the term 'Indian,' knowing that these days the politically correct term was 'Native American,' but if the woman took any offense to it, she did not show it. In fact, she began to chuckle even more at what Faith had said.

"And a Bostonian," Faith grimaced as she realized that her accent had given herself away, "Interesting combination when it comes to vampire hunting."

Faith smiled at that, realizing just how right the statement was. She felt somewhat suspicious of the older woman but, she had apparently saved Faith's life last night so, she was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Aside from that, it wasn't women she had learned to look out for…it was men.

"What's your deal," Faith asked her good-naturedly, "I mean, I know why I do this-"

"Why," Lozen interrupted her, "Are you the Slayer?"

"Yep," she held her head up proudly, "Faith the Vampire Slayer."

"Hmm…" the woman said with a smile, "I thought the Slayer for this generation was Buffy."

Faith's smile faltered. That one statement had brought the reasoning behind her travels to a point. Now that her problem was solved, however, what was the point of going on? What would she do now? She decided to put that all on hold for the moment and talk with this woman.

"She was, and still is, but…she died for a moment and was brought back, somehow. At least, that's what I figure. My Watcher could never find out exactly how it happened."

"…Was she the one he," Lozen asked softly, sympathetically.

Faith nodded after a moment. For some strange reason, she felt that she could open up to this woman without fear of anything happening.

"…They don't have a word for what he did to her," Faith responded, her voice filled with emotion.

Without word or warning, Lozen wrapped her arms around the young woman and drew her into a hug. Faith, at first fearful, relaxed as she felt a sense of comfort inside the woman's grasp. She felt safe there, and a strange sense of…belonging. After a long moment, Lozen let go of her, and Faith, expecting the feelings to go away the moment contact was broken, was pleasantly surprised to find that she still felt safe. It was…nice, especially as it was the first time in her life that she had ever felt safe.

"…So," Faith began to speak to cover up her embarrassment over the hug, "What's your excuse for hunting Count Dracula?"

Lozen smiled again and said, "Someone has to. I'm better than most, so, why not?"

Faith raised an eyebrow at her answer.

"We're about a mile away from Jackson," the woman dodged her question for the moment, "I'll explain as we walk. Nathaniel," she indicated her horse as she said this, "Deserves a bit of a break on his back. Come."

Lozen took her horse's reigns in her hands and began to pull him down the hill, with Faith right on her tail.

"…How long have you been fighting vampires," Faith asked.

"Around twelve years now so, I guess ever since I was twenty-three," Faith stopped short at her answer. How had she been fighting that long and not be dead yet? Unless…

"Are you Buffy," she asked, hoping that maybe her trip hadn't been entirely wasted.

"No," Lozen answered and Faith could tell that she was being honest, "Buffy, the other Slayer, disappeared before summer started. Hasn't been seen since, last I heard."

"I heard a rumor that she was in Denver," Faith interjected, "Do you know if that's true."

"I know it's **not** true," the older woman smiled even more, "I live in Denver. I just finished tearing apart a gang of vampires a little over a month ago. Word spread out pretty fast so, that's probably why you heard that."

Faith grimaced. So, she had been heading for the Slayer but found…someone who was better, apparently. From what she knew, most Slayers didn't live past their eighteenth birthday. If this woman was…thirty-five, if her math could be trusted, then maybe it would be best if she stuck around for a little bit.

"So…what kinda name is Lozen?"

The woman's smile left her face immediately and turned into the face of one who had been offended. Faith stepped back a little, startled to see such a look grace a woman of such beauty. Lozen seemed to pause for a moment and, her face softened. She stepped towards Faith, who immediately took a step back, but she still came forward. Faith unconsciously turned her hands into fists, ready for the customary strike that came with that look from any parent…_parent? Where the Hell did that come from?_ She pushed it aside from now and got ready, only for the older woman to reach out and place her hand on Faith's arm. She immediately relaxed, comforted that her opinion of this woman was still true.

"I'm sorry," she apologized and, damn it, it sounded sincere.

"Hey, whatever," she tried to cover up her hurt feelings, "It's five by five."

"No," she insisted, "I shouldn't have gotten angry with you. You're just a child," for once, Faith didn't feel the need to argue that she was a woman, "Lozen, amongst my people, was a fierce warrior of the Apache, the Warm Springs Apache, as we are sometimes called today. She was a cunning warrior, a great strategist, and a medicine woman. I was born in Fort Sills in 1964, thirty-five years ago, to an Apache woman and a soldier. My mother gave me her name as my own. When I was twenty-three, I had moved to Flagstaff, Arizona. I was married then. My husband…" a single tear began to come out of her eyes and it was allowed to fall freely down her cheek, "Died from a vampire attack. I picked up my bow and arrow and slaughtered the vampires that did it. After that, I moved back to Fort Sills and restarted my training as a medicine woman. Once I had finished, I began to bless my weapons, as I have presided over several holy functions for my tribe, and dedicated myself towards saving the innocent. I refuse to go on a quest for vengeance, that leads only to darkness. So, I took up a quest to defend the innocent. I fight with the knowledge that with every vampire or demon I destroy, I have saved the lives of countless innocents."

"…Gotta admit," Faith said after a moment, "I never thought of it that way. I always kinda thought of it as just a job. Just what I had to do. I never really thought of the reasons why I did it, I just…did it."

"Such is the way with all people who have destinies," Lozen grimaced, "I am a believer in free will, not predestination. Whatever force it is upstairs that's running the show has no right to do this to people, none whatsoever."

"I fully agree," Faith admitted, "…So, what're you doing up in the Rockies?"

"I take a yearly retreat up here before winter," Lozen informed the Slayer, "So, you were heading for Denver? What do you intend to do now?"

"Well," she paused in thought before finishing with, "If I couldn't find Buffy in Denver, I was planning on heading west, to Sunnydale."

"The Hellmouth," Lozen said with a smile, "To defend it or to find help?"

"I was on the run from Kakistos," Faith stated, "He was going to kill me so, yeah, I was looking for help. There's this guy on the Hellmouth that's been cleaning up around there. Word has it that he's already taken out a few major league demons. He works with a group, just like rumors said B did."

"Yes, the Scooby Gang, as they've called themselves," Lozen stated, "Apt. Juvenile, but apt. Maybe they're the same group."

"That's what I figured," Faith said, proud of the fact that this woman seemed to agree with her reasoning, "This guy's been using modern weaponry, guns and such. Everyone calls him 'The Eagle.'"

"Do you still want to go," Lozen asked, "If you want, I'm leaving tomorrow morning. You can come with me."

Faith smiled.

╟℣╢

A/N TD: 1) Just added the smoking for drama.; 2) While I agree that the PTB are just politicians, I've chosen to go with a more…inaccurate, but supportive position. One could argue either way and, while I don't agree with the one I am representing, I feel it works best for my story. Also, the series never reveals how the Slayer is chosen, so, I'm going with the theory that after she was created by humans, the PTB picked up the spirit and took control over it.; 3) Free will? Who's to say they have it? I hope they do but, when I look at events in the Whedonverse like Jasmine, Connor's birth, the Master, and etc, I kinda come to the conclusion that free will simply don't exist in that world. Thanks for the notes to JB. If you wanna get in on our debate, don't hesitate. It's nice to know that there are people out there willing to challenge others for their beliefs **peacefully**.

A/N Jason (JB): Possibly on the sci vs. super, but, I truly don't believe that an army of vamps could take on a nuke. I'm militant myself, a person who believes that the ordinary can overcome the extraordinary, but, that's just me. Yeah, Buffy does do all the important stuff and, I don't question it but, let's face facts: she did come up with the basics of the defense plan at Graduation but, who pulled it off? Her friends, all she had to do was outrun a giant snake. With Adam, it took all their gifts to defeat him, not just her. She, while being a key figure, isn't **the** key figure. Mentally: I'd like to bring up 'Conversations with Dead People,' where she admits that she believes that she has problems with superiority and inferiority. All I'm trying to do is prevent several disturbing things that happen later on by destroying them now. Plus, I've always wanted to include a theory my friends and I have about the universe (we're trying to get a book published) and, this story just presented a grand opportunity to include it, one that I couldn't pass up. Yeah, I read the original Cap comics, still have a few. I ain't that old, but, my relatives do (uncle and grandfather, in particular) and I read those when I was really young. I don't read the Ultimates, I find that they lack a certain…finesse that the originals had. Forgive me, but, I'm not certain what bridge you're trying to build here. I'd guess that you're saying that they should know that Buffy is the best. She may be on some levels but, just like Captain America himself (when it came to Buck, for instance, he never quite go over it) he has frailties, frailties which he resolves to fix. Look at when he quits his post as Captain America, changing it to just 'Captain.' He had lost faith in the system he had defended and, as such, had hung up the cape for good, perhaps. A perfect parallel to this, with the only difference being the fact that Cap did find the light and move on, get better, and retake his post. Buffy may have retaken the post, but she never did get better or move on. As to Amy, I knew she wasn't an even trade but, I was banking on the fact that, as a demon, Lurconis (did I spell it right?) would be satisfied even more so by the betrayal that came with the feast. Also, before you go contrasting what happened for Buffy and what was said in this one, I'm choosing to represent both viewpoints, one for predestination in the PTB and one for free will in Lozen and Faith. To me, yes, we do have free will, but not over absolutely everything in our lives. If we did, then we would be able to chose which disasters occur, which prophecies come true or don't, which people die…it would be a disaster. So, while we do have free will in some issues, we don't in others. My opinion.

To all Buffy haters: don't get me wrong, I wish her a long, healthy stay in Hell along with the rest of you. But, in my opinion, if there's a way to change what happened and make her the woman that Joss should have, I feel that it should be taken. I prefer life over death (Spike in S5 through 7, fry, bastard, fry! Angel in S1 to 3, same to you!) and I'd much rather forgive and move on, but not until I've been shown that she'd actually changed. In other words, up till S4 and _Angel_ S1, she seems salvageable…it'd be hard, but not impossible. But, when she charges up to LA seeking vengeance on Faith, with her life, no less, that's the end of it all. I won't kill her, unless I absolutely have to. Sorry, that's the way it is.


	10. Friendships Renewed Sorta

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

_Men kick friendship around like a football, but it doesn't seem to crack. Women treat it like glass and it goes to pieces._

_Anne Morrow Lindbergh_

╟℣╢

Los Angeles International Airport:

Anne Sumner watched from the far end of the hall, wondering how this had happened. Doyle had gotten a vision not an hour ago about a man in LAX. The vision hadn't told much, except that she was needed there. What she had found was beyond her beliefs. Once she had seen that her father was going to be in LA for business reasons, the temptation to see him again had been too much to bear. So, that was why she was there, in LAX, less than three hundred yards away from her biological father, and she desperately wanted to speak with him, if only to check and see how her mother was doing. She wanted to run up and hug him but, she still wasn't sure what she would do afterward. The decision was made for her, however, as her father suddenly turned his head towards her.

╟℣╢

Hank Summers walked off the plane from Tokyo, grateful to finally be back in his own country. However, he was a troubled man. Not too long ago, his daughter had disappeared off the face of the earth. He had spent hundreds of thousands in PIs to find her but, no one could find her. She had just vanished. Then, not two months ago, she had reappeared again, on the doorsteps of her mother's house, nonetheless. He had been ecstatic and had boarded a plane the second he heard. He would have made it back to the airport and caught a ride to her house by the next evening but, she had taken off…again. Now, she was in God knows where, doing God knows what…or who. He had talked regularly with Joyce, tried to convince her that it wasn't her fault but, no matter what he said, it didn't matter anymore. She had lost the will to live…literally. He had honestly picked up the phone one time and meant to have her sent to a center but, his conscience simply would not allow it. Aside from that, Joyce had moved away from Sunnydale, away from all the pain, and had literally given up on all hope for her daughter. Losing her twice was just too much for her to take. He had offered to have the PIs on the job again but, she had declined, believing that it was simply a waste of time. It was times like these when he really wished he hadn't have divorced her. She really needed him and he had set up his life away from her. It was enough to make him sell his company…but, he was getting married again, soon. He couldn't do that to his fiancée.

He pulled out his cell phone, intending on making a business call to his partner in San Diego, his next port of call after his business in LA was finished, when he felt eyes on him. He turned his head slightly and dropped his cell phone. There, standing a little over two hundred yards away, was his daughter. In spite of how much she had changed, she was still his little girl. She had cut her hair down quite a bit (A/N: think S6, her makeshift haircut) and had dyed it red (A/N: Scooby-Doo). She had dressed herself up in a pair of tight looking black leather pants and an equally tight black sleeveless shirt. It was all covered up with a black leather jacket that came up about four inches above her knees. She had gotten contacts, apparently, for her formerly green eyes had changed to a strange blue, almost neon blue. She was staring at him, her mouth open in shock. He could relate. Without any concern for his phone, he swiftly made his way across the floor and over to his daughter, who refused to meet his eyes. Slowly, cautiously, he reached out and touched her shoulder.

"Buffy," he beseeched her, "Honey, is that you?"

In one move, her gaze was upon his, and he knew, beyond any doubt, that it was her. Without pause or thought, he wrapped his daughter up in a hug.

╟℣╢

Hank followed his daughter into her office, amazed at her brief explanation of things. From her story, she seemed to have gone through a miniature Hell of sorts. Having lost her lover, then having to kill him to save lives. None of it made any sense until she had started in on the supernatural. Now, _there_ was something that he hadn't heard about in a long time. It was part of why he had gotten the divorce. He had hoped that, when combined with the mental institution, the loss of her friends, and her expulsion from school, she would give up being a Slayer. He had believed her, mainly because he knew. He had met a vampire when he was seventeen, and had only gotten away because he hid in his mother's house. After that, his ever curious mind had forced him to explore the occult. He had found absolutely everything he could…and that had been a lot. Now, to find out that his daughter had still been fighting evil…it was a shock.

"Honey," he was going to ask the question that he hated the most, "…Why aren't you in Sunnydale, with your friends?"

His question had the effect he thought it would. Immediately, her gaze became one of hurt and fear. She was afraid of them…or what they would do.

"…Dad," she muttered solemnly, "Dad, I left the first time because I couldn't deal with losing Angel. I didn't think my friends would understand and, on a level, they wouldn't…couldn't, but…they would have tried, if nothing else for me. Then, I come home, and I get upset because it's hard to deal. They told me lies, basically, about how well they had done against the vamps, just to give me some help, let them know they had my back while I got better. I believed them…and that just provided me with an excuse to leave. It was too hard to deal…but, it wasn't. I'm surprised it wasn't harder, to be honest. At least they made an effort. I tried, too, but…all I had to do was show up and wait to be told what to do. I couldn't even do that right."

"…You blame yourself," he questioned.

"…A lot," she answered honestly, "And, so do my friends, I know. But, I know it's not my fault entirely. We all could have done better, but…me, most of all."

"What're you doing in LA," he asked.

"Running a detective agency," she answered with a grin, "The main thing I did back in Sunnydale was just save people. Now, I'm helping people, helping their souls. Helping them get better, and with each person I help, the closer I am to gaining redemption for allowing Angelus to run free."

_Angelus_, he wondered to himself, _Angel? One in the same…what, did he have his soul or something?_

He pushed the question aside, for the moment, and focused on his daughter.

"Why," he asked her, "Why do you have to gain redemption for that?"

"I was the Slayer," she responded, "It was my duty to save lives, not let one vampire live above the rest. And allow innocent people to die. My punishment was the revoking of my Slayer status. I was demoted…to Champion. I still have above human strength and agility but, nowhere near where I was. I have a visionary, to tell me where to go. And a sister, to help me fight. We fight the darkness together, and we save lives, make them worth living…if we can."

Hank pondered her words. She was trying to make up for her mistakes and earn a living at the same time. It was…excellent, in a way. But, she would have a hard life as a private investigator. He knew. He also knew one very important thing that might help her.

"Buffy," he began but, she held up her hand.

"Dad, before you ask…you can tell Mom," he nodded eagerly, "From what you told me, it sounds like she's taking this really hard. But, make her promise to not tell my friends. They don't want to see me again, and if they do, I don't have any doubts that they would try to kill me…and, if not, the Eagle would."

"'Eagle,'" he questioned, "Who's that?"

"The new guy running the show down in Sunnydale," his daughter answered, "The odds are that he's working with the gang and they've told him everything. From what I've heard, he's one bad guy, and I don't want to be on the receiving end of one of his guns."

"…Alright," he agreed, "But, you have to do me two favors, one of which I think you'll love."

"Oh, boy," she muttered.

"If you're going to be a PI, then I want for you to get an actual PI on your team. I have one that owes me a favor so, I'm going to call in that favor. He'll stop by sometime next week, if I can get him to. Secondly, in exchange for you doing this, I will buy you an actual office. We're square. Deal?"

"…Deal."

╟℣╢

Anne looked through a paper filled with spaces for sale. She had had Lily use her skills to find out what buildings were up for sale and had found around a hundred locations that would be best for them. Hank, her father, had informed her that money was no boundary whatsoever. Whatever she wanted, she could have. She flipped another page, the page dedicated to the Hyperion Hotel. There were a few photos, spanning throughout the twentieth century, but…one photo, in particular, caught her attention. There, in the background, was her lover…Angel.

She whispered his name.

╟℣╢

Sunnydale, California…The Hellmouth:

Anne Sumner, or Buffy Summers, as she had once been called, silently stalked underneath the Bronze, where Angel had once lived. She had come to town for one night only, one night to get the essentials for her new organization. She had rented a Uhaul with her father's loan and was taking all of Angel's stuff from his two homes. The odds were that the mansion had already been cleared out but, she had to give it a try.

As she loaded in the last of Angel's books, she sighed. Everything here reminded her of him, reminded her of all the pain that had been caused…all in that bed. She sighed and carried her box outside.

╟℣╢

Sunnydale High School Library:

Last year, Willow had begun a database, typing each book into a CD Rom and copying them several times. She had hidden them underneath the copier inside Giles's office and, fortunately, the gang was gone. Probably out on patrol. It wasn't right, she thought, she should be out there…with them but, she had taken that chance away from herself. She had to pay the consequences. She would gain redemption from the Powers That Be first, then…she might come back. If she did, she intended on doing what she could to prove to them that she had changed. She knew that stealing their information was not the best way to but, she had a job to do. Besides, she'd send them back once she had her own copies. She sighed and lifted up the copying machine easily, even with her Champion level strength, she was still strong. She set it off to the side a little bit, and looked down. There, in place of the small space that had been filled with six CDs, there was a note.

"Giles," she read, "Am borrowing these to copy them to my computer. Willow."

╟℣╢

Anne sat down on the couch inside Angelus's old mansion. She had taken every book and item that she thought was useful out of the place, leaving only the first aid supplies that had been there. The place was going unused, thankfully, so it was very unlikely that anyone would be around. Thus explaining why she had taken a moment's worth of rest. Being back in Sunnydale…brought a lot of memories to the fore, memories that she wasn't sure she wanted. She still loved her friends deeply but, every time she thought about them, about Willow's smile, or Xander's jokes, or Oz's…Ozziness, or Giles's bookworminess, or, God help her, even Cordy's airheadedness, she wanted to laugh…and cry. It was painful, but joyful, all at once. She didn't understand it and, what was worse, she didn't know how to understand it. She was tempted to stick around town and systematically stalk her friends, to see how they were doing. But, she knew that doing that would be like throwing a dagger into her still-bleeding wound. She couldn't do that.

She looked up as her sensitive hearing picked up a noise. Voices…familiar voices. The Scooby Gang…were coming her way. Without any thought, she leapt up and ran out the door, evading their notice.

╟℣╢

The City of Angels:

"I gotta admit, Princess," Doyle said as he came down the stairs, "You've done pretty well for yourself. Only the top floor's in any danger of coming down but, that shouldn't remain that way for long. Mind tellin' me why you got it?"

Anne looked up at him, her face unreadable. Finally, she answered.

"Angel stayed here."

"Um," both looked up as they heard Lily's voice echo down the stairs, "There's an old lady up here."

Doyle quickly ran up the stairs after their friend, while Anne remained behind. There was something wrong here, she knew it. She just…didn't know what. She was about to run up the stairs when she heard…laughter?

"Show yourself," she called out.

No one answered. The former Slayer was beginning to get paranoid, and she didn't like that feeling. She sighed and decided to stop and think, instead of just rushing into a situation, like usual. Angel had stayed here…and Angel had kept a journal. She turned around and went to where she kept Angel's books and opened up one that had been marked with dates from the fifties. She skimmed over the first few pages until she came to one that had been marked down as from the Hyperion. She read the passage quickly and came to the conclussion that they were dealing with a Thesulac demon…mainly because it had been written down as one. Angel had also gone out of his way to write down how to defeat it. If he had known, then why hadn't he tried to get rid of it? The entry stopped just before he moved out. He had visited a man…Denver.

╟℣╢

Denver looked up as he heard someone come into his shop. Before him was a beautiful girl with red hair and blue eyes, dressed in an all-black outfit with a leather jacket thrown over it.

"You Denver," she asked casually.

"Ugh, yes," he was slightly unnerved by the young woman before him, "What can I do for you, Miss…"

"Sumner," she answered formally, "Anne Sumner. I need your help."

"Really," he brightened up at the prospect of helping someone, that had been his way, of sorts, ever since that vampire had come looking for a way to help people, "With what?"

She held up an old photograph and pointed towards the highest point on it, the background.

"Do you recognize him?"

"…I don't believe it," he took hold of the picture and stared at it in shock, "It's him. It's…"

"Angel," he looked upon the young woman in awe, "He was a vampire with a soul, destined to help save lives."

"Angel," he muttered as his memory raced to make some…connection…"Angelus," she nodded her head in agreement, "Wow. What happened to him?"

"…He and I were…" she trailed off at that, but he got the message, "He lost his soul," he gasped in shock, "Killed a bunch of people…I sent him to Hell. Now, I'm carrying on. Taking his place."

Denver nodded in understanding. This girl, something about her just screamed power. He wondered…

"Are you the Slayer," he asked her.

"Was," she answered, "I'm just a Champion now. I lost my Slayerness because I let Angelus live. I was in love…I couldn't see the difference between the two. Angel was a good man…Angelus wasn't. I should have staked him to end Angel's pain through it."

Denver nodded in understanding. Love clouded the judgment and made things difficult to understand…to decide. If it'd been him, he wouldn't have fallen in love, period. But, things weren't so black and white. There was always the gray area and, while this girl did do wrongly, she had accepted the consequences of her actions and was trying to atone for them. That, at least, earned her a small degree of respect. Aside from that, she was trying to save lives. That simply sealed the deal.

"What do you need?"

╟℣╢

Lily and Doyle sprinkled some powder all over the floor, as the ritual said, while Denver held the orb out and Anne grabbed her favorite broadsword, ready for the demon to come forth.

"We call thee forth, Thesulac of the netherworld, we command you, leave our minds and join us on this, the physical plane," Denver held the orb out even more as he recited the spell, "We invoke the by the power of the orb of the priests of Ramjerin. What was once in our thoughts, be now in our midst."

The air above the stairs began to shiver and bulge out, as though something were trying to escape from an invisible grasp. A scream pierced the room, causing all inside to take a step backwards. Finally, as the scream began to die down, the demon became true in form. He yawned slightly and looked over to them, his mouth twisting into a demented smile.

"Take-out," he muttered.

"Watch its tentacles," Anne shouted out, "Denver, you and Lily attack with the crossbows, Doyle and I'll take point."

"We will," Doyle asked, somewhat fearful of the demon but, more fearful of the look the former Slayer was giving him, "We will."

He reverted to his demonic form and charged forward, with Anne right by his side. Denver and Lily went to opposite sides of the room and fired their crossbows whenever they had a clear shot, which was almost never, so they had plenty of time to reload. Doyle and Anne, while putting up a good fight, could not get past its tentacles. Doyle charged forward as fast as he could, intending on barreling past the tentacles, only to feel a great force strike his legs, then throw him into the nearby wall.

"DOYLE," Lily shouted and she dropped her weapon to go check on her friend as Denver fired a bolt at the demon's arm, but he just swiped it across the room with his tentacle.

Anne felt another pair of tentacles throw her into the wall and slid down to the floor. Before getting up, however, she paused as she looked around the room for anything that could be used as a weapon. The first thing that she noticed was an exposed fuse box. Without hesitation, she leapt up and grabbed the first tentacle she could, even as Denver shot another one, pinning it to the wall. She leapt up and shoved the tentacle against the exposed wires.

"The kitchen's closed," she muttered in triumph.

No one moved…and the demon didn't fry.

"Ugh, Princess," she turned her attention to Doyle, "I…didn't finish hooking up the juice."

"…Oh."

Before any could react, an explosion echoed throughout the room. It was followed by a gigantic hole being blown into the demon's skull. It opened its mouth in confusion, then simply collapsed to the floor and disappeared in a glare of white light. All eyes turned away from the light before the demon even finished disappearing. Standing in the doorway, dressed in a pair of kaki pants, a white shirt, and a black leather jacket with a pair of flame sunglasses on, was a dark haired man that seemed very familiar to one figure in the room.

"…Pike."

╟℣╢

"So, how do you know our gallant hero, Princess?"

Anne turned to her friend and smiled slight at the way he had worded the question.

"Bad as this may sound, I used to date him," she responded with a grin, "He was my first partner in crime."

"So," Denver came up behind her as he said this, "What do we do now?"

"You wanna help," Lily asked the old man.

"Well, I'm not a young buck anymore, but," he paused as he thought of how to say this, "When I met Angel, I knew that helping people was the right thing to do…and I plan to do the right thing. I'll help you in any way I can, no matter what it is."

Anne thought before answering and, when she did, she turned to Lily, "Would you like to learn the occult?"

Her response was interesting, "Sure! I'd love to!"

"Denver," she turned back to the older man with a smile, "Would you mind taking on an employee?"

He smiled, "I think that could be arranged. You come in three or four times a week, I teach you some of the stuff I know, and you call me whenever there's a problem."

"I like it," Doyle put his two cents in, "Seems like a good idea. Also, Princess, I think it'd be a good idea to have your," he pointed to the room that Pike was in as he said this, "Friend teach me and Lily how to shoot. Maybe even yourself. I mean, I'm alright but, he's obviously better."

Anne thought about it for a second. She didn't like guns, it seemed so…impersonal, in her eyes. It felt like, the few times she had fired a gun (Mom had taken her to target practice for a client and she had shot expertly) all her power had been taken away. But, she was trying to learn how to survive without being on top all the time. She wasn't in charge here, not really, it was a democracy. Doyle put forth an idea, which was obviously supported by both Denver and Lily, and they were expecting her to agree. Well, she did, but, she wanted to make it clear what their group was.

"You want to," she held up her hands, "That's no problem, just have to ask him. You can do whatever you want, all of you, you just have to let us know whenever you're having a problem. You can live with whoever you want, sleep with whoever you want, you can train any way you want, just let us know whenever you have a problem. We're here for each other, all the time."

╟℣╢

Anne sat down at the desk where Pike was sat. Her old friend was drinking from a bottle of scotch, his pistol in his side holster. The second she sat down, he lifted his bottle away from his face and set it down to the tabletop.

"…Hey, Buffy," he greeted her, "Or Anne. Which is it?"

"…Call me Anne," she stated.

"Your dad told me about what happened," he shook his head in disbelief, "Gotta admit, I couldn't see Buffy Summers, **my** Buffy Summers, shunning her friends over an undead bastard, even if he did have a soul."

"I wasn't thinking right," she responded, "I had some good points but, in the end, all that mattered was the fact that they were willing to try. And I took that chance away from them."

"You ever thought of going back," he asked, "Making things right?"

"A few times," she answered honestly, "But, whenever I do, I just wonder what they'd do…or think. It was bad enough when I came home the first time. I can't even imagine this time. So, how's your life been?"

"Alright," he answered with a grin, "I went to PI school after Hemery, got my license and my badge. Your dad helped me get on my feet, even though he never did like me. I owe him, and that's why I'm here, plus the joy of a friendship renewed."

He leaned forward a little and looked directly in her eyes, "Buffy, I know that your friends will forgive you. If anything else, to stop the waterworks."

She slapped him playfully across the shoulder.

"Ow," or, what she thought had been playfully, "But, seriously, you made a mistake. Everyone does. The point is that you move on, learn from them, and accept the consequences. You try to better yourself from your mistakes, not repeat them. You do that, and I really think that the Scoobies will take you back."

He abruptly stood up and left, muttering about needing a place to sleep. Anne remained where she was, thinking about what to do next.

╟℣╢

Sunnydale, California…The Hellmouth:

Warren Meers smiled over at his creation. April was perfection, absolute. He had begun work on her in Junior year, when he had been shot down again, this time for the Homecoming Dance. Finally, she was finished, and he couldn't be happier with the results. He had downloaded every single thing he could into her AI brain (most importantly, every sexual position known to mankind) and the results were pretty spectacular. His parents were out, thus explaining why she was out and they were naked on the bed after several hours of passionate lovemaking.

"You're the best lover ever, Warren," April told him as she rubbed up against him.

"What else am I good at," he was enjoying this.

Before she could continue to smother him with praise, however, the ringing of the front door echoed throughout the house. He groaned aloud and stood up and began to get dressed.

"Warren," April complained, "Come back to bed."

"It's probably Dad, locked out again," the man was an idiot when compared to Warren, thus making the young man wonder if he had been adopted. He walked out of his bedroom, completely dressed, and sprayed a little bit of freshener around to cover up the smell. He opened the door, revealing a man in a business suit with dark hair and a seemingly all-too-innocent smile.

"Warren Meers," the man asked immediately.

"…Yes," he answered cautiously, wondering what this man wanted.

"My name's Lee Mercer," he held out his hand and Warren gingerly shook it, "I represent the law offices of Wolfram and Hart. My law firm is very interested in purchasing the rights to your…invention," the lawyer's gaze turned away from him, and Warren followed, and was surprised to see April come into the open area, bare naked.

"Hmm," Warren stepped in front of her to keep her from being ogled by the lawyer, but he just grabbed the nerd's shoulder and pulled him away, "Yes," the man began to circle his creation, examining every nook and cranny of her, "I assume you used anatomy books to create her?"

The nerd stared at the man, amazed at his audacity…but, then again, he was a lawyer. Why the Hell shouldn't he be audacious?

"Warren," April sounded confused, "Why is this man looking at me? I'm for your eyes only. Should I take care of him?"

"I'll let you know," he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her towards the hallway, "Go get dressed and stay in my room."

April complied, like always, and went away. He sighed and turned around to the strange lawyer, who had taken a seat and was getting out some paperwork.

"Mr. Meers, have a seat," Warren obeyed, but only in the hopes of finding out what this man wanted, "My law firm represents many top businesses, two of which deal in the area that your creation is expertly suited for. Wolfram and Hart has been watching you for some time and, when we learned of your invention, I was sent right out to write out a patent for you. This intitles you to all profits of the mass production of these robots."

_Profits?_ He smiled.

"What industries," he asked with a grin.

"An adult entertainment division and a chain of strip clubs that would see a great amount of profit if they could eliminate the staff and hire robots that would be willing to do anything…for the right price. With your designs, and what our cosmetologists could do, this could allow millions of dollars, even **billions** of dollars to flow through, to you and us. All we need you to do is sign this patent and you get profits for every robot sold."

"…What would be the main asking price," he wondered aloud.

"Oh, at least five hundred thousand," Warren perked up at that, "And, if we add on the cost of changing the appearance, enhanced strength, downloading capability, Internet, even other supernatural abilities that our law firm could provide for them…by the end of it, you would probably get a quarter of a billion for each one while we'd get about half a billion. What do you say?"

Warren nodded his head vigurously.

╟℣╢

A/N 4 Jason: Glad to see you're willing to accept changes, at least the ones that I'm making. The reason why there are the extraordinary is because the ordinary do need help, they're the calvary. Point on the radiation, but, I doubt anything short of the First would survive, mainly because most demons can be killed by conventional means (beheading, for one). I'm not a romantic, I'm a realist. Sorry, that's just the way I am. Outrunning a giant snake is miniscule for a Slayer, since you keep on talking about how the extraordinary are the ones that make the difference. No arguing on the adjoining spell, but, as I said then, she was only **a** key factor, not **the** key factor. As for Hell, yes, I do wish her Hell, mainly because of what she did to the potentials. It was the systematic rape of hundreds or thousands of girls. I have a problem with that, thank you kindly. And, as I've said before, I don't have much of a problem with her in S1, only a few things that could be justified easily. So, yes, you make a point on canon but, it doesn't matter to me. I only hate Buffy after S1, when ME starts going all the more with theromantic and crap. Besides, did you completely miss the point I made about saving her from herself?

TD: Thanks.

BTW: Faith will **not** be going to Sunnydale for some time yet. She's with Lozen…sorry, guess I didn't make that connection very well. Faith was instantly attracted to Lozen as a parental figure and, in between the choice of someone who is offering you a free place to stay verses going off to find a bunch of people you've only heard of, I thought the choice would be easy.

Sorry.


	11. Perception

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

To perceive is to suffer.

_- Aristotle_

╟℣╢

Amy stood in the background as Cordelia expertly cut through the throng of vampires, with Xander right beside the mage, ready to jump in at the first sign of trouble. The main purpose of this was to give Cordelia a bit more training when it came to vampires and patrol at the same time. Two birds with one stone, as Xander had called it.

"So, Amy," the young witch turned her head upwards to see her friend while Xander kept his gaze focused on his girlfriend, "How're you feeling now?"

"…Betrayed," she answered honestly, "I trusted Rack, and he sells me out for his own profit. I guess every man lets me down. Maybe I should be a lesbo. It'd make things a lot simpler."

"Personally, that makes no sense to me," he responded with a grin, "I get the being let down. Let's face it, guys don't have a damn clue what the Hell they're doing. And I'm speaking from my own perception when I say that, so, you know it's true. But, we have our moments. You can't expect perfection, but you can expect for us…some of us…to do what's right when it counts.

"As to the lesbo thing…if I could have a video camera set up, I'm not opposed," she smacked him on the shoulder, but knew that he was just funning with her, "OW! Anyway," he rubbed his shoulder quietly as he continued, "Women are harder to understand than men. With us, men watch sports, men watch the action movie…we eat of the beef and enjoy to look at the bosoms. We're pretty much routine that way. You get the oddities, of course, but…women are an eternal mystery to us. Maybe you'd understand them better, but, I can safely say, just from playing at this side of the field, you'll probably never understand whoever you end up with. If you do, good going. Clue me in on the inner thoughts of women that don't revolve around the monthly business."

"You've been around women all your life and you still have no idea how we think," Amy asked, perplexed.

"A very wise man once said this," Xander grinned cheekily, "'You're damned if you do, and you're damned if you don't.'"

"…Bart Simpson," Amy smiled even more, "I like Nelson better."

"Nelson," he was shocked, "Nelson's just a bully who thinks with his fists."

"But, he always knows the answers to the tests. Remember that filing cabinet in the bathroom?"

"Point. But, still, Bart's America's bad boy…I will usurp his throne."

Amy laughed openly at that. She took a quick moment to turn him into the cartoon version of himself: yellow, beady eyes, spiked up hair…She laughed even more.

"You mock me, but just wait," he bid her, "Bart Simpson and I will have a duel in cuss and slingshot and I will kick his ass…of course, with this bein' the Hellmouth, the odds are that that can happen."

"XANDER," Cordelia screeched out as she fended off another vamp, "I'M GETTING TIRED!"

He opened fire, eliminating the single vamp with a blast to its neck. Cordelia panted as she set down her axe and held both her hands above her head.

"How was that," she asked.

Before either could answer, a snooty English voice intruded.

"Sloppy," they turned their eyes against a suited woman with a stern look and who had her hair pinned up, "You telegraph swipes, leave blind sides open, and, um, for a school-night, take entirely too much time," she turned her gaze against Cordy and smiled sardonically, "You must be Faith," before any could have a chance to respond, she continued on, "I'm Gwendolyn Post, your new Watcher."

The trio stared at her in confusion. Faith? Who's Faith? Before any of them could move, however, she had turned her gaze against Xander and eyed his assault rifle and Desert Eagles.

"So," she crossed her arms and, in a very snooty manner, walked up to him until she was directly in his face, "You must be the infamous Eagle. I was expecting someone older…and taller…and in better shape."

Xander was tempted to blow this woman to Hell. Something about her, though it was most likely due to her attitude, was rubbing him the wrong way and made him want to just shoot her damned head off. But, until he figured out what it was, he couldn't, and wouldn't, make a move. And the best way to determine that was to spy on her and, if she believed that Cordy was this Faith Slayer…that provided them with a golden opportunity.

"…Lady," didn't mean he couldn't piss her off first, "If you don't get outta my face, I will blow your damn ass all the way up to your skull. Get me?"

She glared at him and he raised his rifle up slightly. She backtracked instantly.

"Good," he said with a grin, "Ladies, let's go."

"Excuse me," Post tried to take authority from him, "But, as Faith's Watcher-"

"Do you wanna go with her," Xander asked Cordy, who shook her head, and he steamrolled over her next statement, knowing that it would be informing Post that she wasn't Faith, "Post, if you wish to collect her, you'll have to go to Rupert Giles. He's in charge over us."

"Eagle, while you may be the main demon hunting force in Sunnydale now, Faith is the responsibility of the Watcher's Council, you're interfering in official business and Mr. Giles is not a member of the Council-"

"And that's a damn good thing," Xander responded, "He hates the Council for what they do to girls. And I'd advise you to be very careful around any of us. We won't be lenient on you if you try to hurt any of our own…or any innocents."

He turned away, Cordy and Amy on his heels.

╟℣╢

Giles sighed as he listened to Amy's recounting of events. The Council had informed him of Faith, but not of her absence, thus leading him to believe it must have happened either shortly after or just before he had been fired. Now, this Post woman comes up and believes that Cordelia was Faith, the other errant Slayer. Oh, how his ancestors would love to see what has happened to the Council. He shuddered at the thought.

"I assume you didn't let Ms. Post know because you intend to use this to your advantage," the Englishman asked Xander, having gained an understanding into the cunningly deceptive mind that belonged to him.

"It would be a perfect way to infiltrate the Council, and find out what she's after," Xander responded back, "It wouldn't last but, it would be a definite way."

Giles took a moment to examine his theory but, came to a slightly different conclusion.

"While it might reveal a few things about the Council, the odds of them being anything useful would be nonexistent. What we need to know of the Council, we already do. Aside from that, it's very rare that a Watcher shares anything with a Slayer. It's basically the same as your CIA treats its agents on a-"

"'Need to know' basis," Xander nodded, understanding the Englishman's logic, "Too bad. I really dislike that woman."

"The feeling is more than mutual, Eagle," all eyes turned to the front of the library where Gwendolyn Post was stood, her gaze flinty as it locked onto Xander's.

"I have a name, y'know," Xander reminded her.

"But, as I do not know it, I will refer to you as Eagle," she stated with a great amount of cheek, enough to even make Xander a bit envious, "Where is Faith?"

"Her name is Cordelia," all eyes, once more, turned towards the front as Cordelia came back from the bathroom, "And, I'm not your wayward Slayer so, get lost!"

For a moment, Post seemed lost, as though she had no idea what to do. Xander decided to throw the lady a bone.

"While you're still here," he stood up and walked around her till he was directly in front of her, "Is there any threat on the horizon that we need to be aware of?"

That seemed to shake her out of her catatonia.

"…Faith is…not here," she asked and, at Xander's nod, said, "She's been reported as abducted in the Council's logs since the time your Slayer, Buffy, returned. Her Watcher was tortured and killed by the vampire Kakistos," Giles dropped his pen upon hearing that.

"My heart goes out to her," Xander stated, "It really does. But…you didn't answer my question."

"…There is a demon," she muttered dejectedly, "Named Lagos. He's after the Glove of Myhnegon. I was intending on using Faith to obtain it before Lagos did but, since she is not here, I believe I shall have to rely on you, Eagle."

Giles ignored her, as he had begun looking through books the second he heard the name of the glove.

"I suggest a coordinated swipe throughout the-" she stopped in mid-sentence, however, for Xander had turned away from her and was going over toward the main desk, where the group had dumped their radios after returning. The plan for the night had been the same as every night: divide, meet up in the mansion, then head back to the library. Tonight, due to Post, and Cordy's injuries, he had radioed to Oz and Willow to keep going and meet back up at the library. He had every bit of confidence in them but, they needed to be informed if there was a new big bad. He picked up the radio and activated it.

"X-man to Wolfman, X-man to Wolfman, come in," he smiled at Post's amazed look.

"Wolfman here," Oz's voice came over the static, "What's up, Xand?"

"New big bad, name of Lagos," Giles handed him a book with an illustration of the demon, "Big, warrior demon. Green skin, two horns coming down towards its mouth. Be advised, best way to take out is with projectiles. This one seems stronger than a Slayer."

"Copy," Oz informed him over the waves, "We're at the Von Hauptman crypt in Restfield."

Xander turned to Giles, who had already gotten out another series of books.

"Giles," the Englishman looked up, "Have you found where it is?"

"I believe the texts refer to a," he picked up one of the discarded books and searched along it, "…a Von…something or other, give me a minute to find it."

"Hauptman," Xander put forth.

"Hauptman," Giles agreed after a moment.

"It's in there, Oz," he turned his attention to Post for a moment, "G-man works better if he's not agitated."

"Will you quit calling me that bloody nickname," Giles demanded.

"No," Xander responded, then turned back to the radio, "Oz, head for the mansion. We'll meet you there. With Lagos out there, we can't take any chances. We'll escort it to the library and get rid of it here."

"I'll keep looking for ways to destroy it," Giles informed him.

"I'll help you," Post stated, gaining a glare from all present as she did so.

"…Fine," Xander agreed, "Cordy, you stay here while Amy and I go help them."

His girlfriend nodded her head, though he could tell it was only because she was tired and she didn't want to leave Giles alone with this woman. Xander tossed a radio to Amy and turned his own down, pocketed it, and followed her out the door.

╟℣╢

Xander and Amy arrived at the mansion, just as Lagos stormed in through the courtyard entrance. The mage and the Eagle ran through the front to get to their friends. They could see both Oz and Willow backstep to get away from the demon, while it just came forward. Oz was holding the glove, so he couldn't do anything to stop it. Willow, on the other hand, delved into her magic and sent a ball of fire towards the demon. It just reached out and took the blast in its palm, not even taking a step back as it struck. Amy threw a bolt of her own at the demon and it didn't notice until it was too late. The blow struck the beast in its head, sending it back a few paces, but still not forcing it down.

"Run," Xander shouted as he took his rifle out and leveled it against the oncoming creature. He squeezed the trigger back and opened fire on it. Within the first five seconds, its body was covered with tiny bullet holes, bullet holes which began to fill with fire as the magnesium flare began to build up inside its body. It screamed and cried in pain and collapsed to the floor. As a final blow, Xander pulled out his Eagle and sent one final bullet into its skull, sending it down to Hell.

╟℣╢

The quartet entered the library quickly, eager to bring an end to this nightmare. The nightmare, however, seemed to have just begun, for the second they walked inside, they were greeted by the sight of Giles and Cordelia, unconscious on the table. The second sensation they had was hearing a shotgun shell being pumped into the chamber. The group turned their heads to look to their right, and saw Post standing there, a .12 gauge shotgun pointed into them.

"Hand it over," she commanded them.

Xander was, of course, inclined to disagree. Before he said anything, however, he heard Amy begin to whisper…a spell that he recognized. He smiled.

"So, this is what it's all about," he said as he walked towards where he could see her, "You just want the glove…and the power that comes with it."

"But, of course," she stated with a smile, "Now, hand me the glove."

He sighed and nodded to Oz, hoping that Amy had had enough time to do the spell. The werewolf tossed the wrapped glove over to her and she caught it expertly. She smiled at them and was about to set it down when Amy finished her spell. The glove disappeared in a sparkle of light.

"What-" Post was enraged.

Before she could fire, however, Willow sent a blast of fire her way. She flew backwards into the wall, a deadly looking gash opening up in her forehead as she rammed into the wall. Xander and Oz ran over to check on their friends while Amy checked on Post and Willow took the shotgun away.

"She's gone," Amy informed them.

Willow stared over at her, unsure as to how to take this. She felt…wrong for having had killed the woman but, she was going to kill them. What kind of choice did she have?

"You did the right thing, Willow," she turned her gaze over to Xander, who was smiling at her, "She would have killed us all if it hadn't been for you and Amy."

"…Does it always feel this way," she asked him, knowing that he had been responsible for two deaths.

"…No," he responded, "But, you'd better hope to God it does."

"Call an ambulance," Oz instructed Xander, who nodded and went to the phone, while the werewolf went over to comfort his girlfriend, whispering innate words of calm into her ears.

"Guys," they turned their attention to Amy, who was pale with fear, "I don't know where I sent the glove."

╟℣╢

Alley outside the Sunnydale Convention Center:

Inside the convention center that night had been a gathering for Sci-Fi fanatics of all kinds, ranging from _Star Wars_ to _Star Trek_. The special guests had been one LT. CMDR. Worf and R2-D2 (better known as Kenny Baker). Amongst those present, dressed in a copy of the suit worn by the elders of _Predator_, had been a short young student at Sunnydale High named Jonathan. As he had been leaving the convention, however, he had found himself to be in the company of a very attractive girl dressed up inside the metallic bikini that made Princess Leia so famous. He had, of course, been drawn to her…but, she had returned the affection, and invited him down the alley for 'a chat.' Needless to say, Jonathan had not even considered refusing and was currently being led down the alley by the remarkably pale woman.

"You know," she said to him, "I was around when the first _Star Wars_ movie came out."

In an attempt at suave, he responded with, "I don't b-believe you…you're t-too young to have b-b-b-been."

It sounded bad, even to him, but, she had laughed.

"Oh," she turned to face him, "I'm not that young."

Suddenly, her face shifted. A fold grew along her forehead and fangs glistened in the night air. Jonathan gasped and took a few steps back but, she simply reached out and grabbed a hold of him. She ripped his mask off as she kept him from running away. She leered at him and licked her lips.

"Geek blood tastes so good."

As she leaned forward to bight him, however, he looked up, intending on praying for some sort of miracle, when one happened. The air above her head began to shimmer and an object appeared out of nowhere. It was wrapped in cloth and sat hovering just a few feet above the vampire's head. Then, it dropped down with a dulling metallic thud against her head, sending her down to the ground, unconscious.

Jonathan took a deep breath to try and regain his wits, then turned his attention to the object that had saved his life. He bent down and picked it up and gently unwrapped it. Inside the cloth was a gothic looking glove with spikes all along the side. Now, Jonathan had not experimented in magic too much but, every instinct he had was telling him that this thing had power…and he wanted some of it. He took off his _Predator_ glove and slowly placed the former aerial glove onto his arm. Once it stopped, the spikes along the side began to drive themselves into his skin, one by one. He cried out in pain and gasped as he felt an…elation of some kind, all coming from the spikes. It hurt but, the hurt was nothing when compared to the feeling of sheer power.

He turned his gaze down to the glove and looked along the side for some kind of instructions or something and found an inscription. He read it aloud.

"Taou huogan…" he paused to translate the strange writing, "Maqachte m-milegaing."

The air above him crackled with lightning as a sudden storm blew up out of nowhere. The lightning struck close to him, but never hit him. He got the message and raised his gloved hand up to the sky, having already memorized the last of the inscription.

"Tauo freim!"

The lightning crackled again and came down in an elegant arch…until it struck his hand. He felt the power sizzle even more within him as the lightning engulfed his hand. He gasped with ecstasy as he felt it. It was beyond…anything he had ever done, or read about. He wanted more of it. He heard a moan and looked down at the vampiress, who was already starting to come around. He decided to…test its power and pointed his hand at the creature, even as he backed away to a safe distance.

"Tauo freim!"

A bolt of lightning blasted from the sky and went into his hand, then shot out towards the vampire. She only had the chance to groan as the bolt arched towards her. The moment the plasma struck her body, she combusted into dust, leaving only a burn mark where her body had once been.

Jonathan gasped and held his hand up to the light to see it better. He grinned as he realized what this meant.

"I can throw lightning at things," he said, giddy, "…I'm just like Thor."

╟℣╢

A/N TD: Willow felt that she had done wrong by ignoring the feeling she had gotten when she had seen the car in Chap 4. She just _knew_ that something was wrong, but had ignored it.

Jason…I'm thinking RPGs, Tomahawks, flame throwers, Anti-tank and Clamours, along with magical weapons. One single bomb might not kill 'em all, but, about three tons worth might do the trick and, if not, call in Riley and the Marines. Better to have a bunch of trained soldiers than a bunch of witless girls, one questionable vampire, one super witch, one insane Slayer, another Slayer, a one-eyed man, and a former Key up against an army of vamps with only a spell that may/may not work and an amulet given to 'em by a questionable, at best, source.


	12. Power

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

_Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely_.

- Lord Acton

╟℣╢

"Reports came in today's paper about a blast of lightning," Willow told the Scooby Gang inside the library the next morning, "Near the convention center. Now, last night, there was a Sci-Fi convention. Add in the power of the glove, as Amy found for us last night, and we got ourselves a problem."

The group, being Xander, Oz, and Amy (Cordy and Giles had been kept away from school due to the extensiveness of their head injuries from Post's blows) nodded in agreement.

"Add to that Post mentioned the lost Slayer, Faith," Xander stated with a grimace, "So, that means we have two problems to contend with."

"Xander, we tried to find Buffy during the summer," Willow reminded the former Zeppo, "What makes you think we'll be able to find this girl?"

"Post mentioned Kakistos," he reminded her, "And rumor has it that Kakistos was killed up in the Rockies not too long ago. That kinda leads me to believe that Faith exacted vengeance and is probably still in the area. However, Giles also mentioned rumors of a Slayer being in Denver…which is pretty damn close to the Rockies. After what happened with Buffy, I refuse to give another Slayer the chance to go down that path, or a worse one. Aside from that, if she's set up shop in Denver, then we need to show her that she has friends in this world. And who better to do that than The Eagle," he said, going into a cheesy Superman stance and a grin.

"You're really hung up on your name," Oz stated.

"I hated it when Post said it, but, I like the attention it brings. Makes me feel good."

"Everyone deserves some attention every now and then," Willow agreed, "Just don't let it go to your head."

Xander grinned at her charmingly, but, nodded all the same.

"What's the plan," Amy asked.

"Willow, I want you to design a will for me," the young leader stated as he pulled out a piece of paper, "I want it to meet all those requirements so that I can get excused from school…and I need it done by lunch."

"LUNCH," Willow screeched, "WHY?"

"You'll see," he said with a malicious grin.

╟℣╢

"Mr. Harris," Xander resisted the urge to smile as he came to a stop in the middle of the hallway to meet the troll, "I received a notice from the administration today that you have asked permission to leave school because some nonexistent aunt left a will stating that you had merchandise in Denver. What kind of bull is this?"

"No bull, sir," Xander said, all too sincerely, "Just what Aunt Barby wanted."

"Harris, you don't have an aunt and I know it," Snyder snarled at him, "Now, confess before I have you expelled!"

"Principal Snyder, excuse me," Xander watched with a sadistic pleasure as he saw Mayor Richard Wilkins walk into the hall with his staff behind him, he had been counting on Snyder's anger to get in the way of his thought process, "What, pray tell, is the problem here?"

"M-mr. Mayor," the pale principal stuttered, "I didn't realize you were-"

The Mayor smiled sardonically and turned his attention to Xander.

"Young man," Xander was standing straight up as his soldier counterpart took over, "What is the problem?"

"Sir, my aunt died recently and left a will for me to travel to Denver and collect it as soon as possible," he had to admit, his expertise in lying had grown tenfold thanks to the hyena.

The Mayor seemed to become slightly downtrodden at that and said, "My condolences. I lost my aunt when I was young, as well. Well, I can't see the problem here, Principal Snyder," he turned to the official, who jumped slightly, "Just let him go so he can mourn for his aunt properly."

"Yes, sir."

"And I'd remind you that as school principal, you are required by law to be more than a dictator, you have to have some compassion for the students, are we clear?"

The man was paler than ever as he responded with, "Crystal, Sir."

"There," the Mayor pasted on an award winning smile, "Best of luck, son," he shook Xander's hand then moved on towards Snyder's office, with the troll not far behind.

╟℣╢

Wilkins grinned evilly in his head as he walked away. He knew that young Harris had been a part of the Slayer's little gang but, after she had left, his units had reported that the gatherings in the library were still going on but, they hadn't been patroling. They'd either have to be stealthier than a Black Ops unit or have some kind of spell keeping them covered, and they would have found spells. His suspicions had become greatly increased, however, as word of the Eagle's little unit came to him and, when added to the fact that his two assassins had never returned, he was beginning to consider that the Eagle had some kind of partnership with them. However, when it came to a choice of pissing off Snyder or giving an enemy a chance to mourn, there wasn't even a choice to be made.

╟℣╢

Xander sat beside Cordy's bed in silence. She had been out for two hours and, while the doctors were still hopeful in the possibibility that she hadn't received any brain damage, his hopes were beginning to dissipate. It was just like that time with Angelus and Willow. He had been so distraught over the attack, over Willow's condition, and over Giles, and Buffy that he had just felt so much emotion that he had to let it out. He loved Willow in more ways than were possible but, it was true. But, he wasn't in love with her. He was in love with Cordy. He wanted her to wake up, to hold her in his arms, to whisper into her ears…to do other things that he refused to think about in this state. Yet, she slept. He just wanted it all to end so that they could relax again, just a little bit. Now, he was going to go away to find a wayward Slayer and talk to her. He hoped that he had more success this time.

╟℣╢

Jonathan smiled as he looked at himself in the mirror. He had spent the whole night working on his version of the Predator suit and changing it around so that the glove would match with it. He had also changed the helmet quite a bit, giving it an aerodynamic quality instead of the crude model that the original movies had given it. He smiled underneath his helmet and flexed his hands underneath the gloves, creating a metallic clinking sound. He had also spent a great deal of time practicing with the glove and had figured out that, by simply saying the first incantation several dozen times, it allowed the glove to charge up with ionic particles and whenever he released a blast from the glove, it wouldn't have to go from the sky to his hand and to the target.

This was his chance to do all the things that all his heroes did…to save lives, get the girl, and get a lot of fans while doing it. But, most importantly, to avenge all the people that had been lost to this town.

"Look out world," he said to the mirror, "The Remorseless is gonna rock your…something or other."

╟℣╢

Xander watched from the window as his friends waved bye to him. He hated going, hated leaving them on their own but, he refused to leave one of their own out in the world. They had tried with Buffy but they had already tried and were all reluctant to try it again, particularly with all the non-success they had the last time. Giles had tried as well but, not much had come up. Except for Denver, that had been the best lead he had…the only lead they had. Willow had searched along the Net but, nothing. So far, none of them had thought about doing a locator spell but, he, to be honest, couldn't care any less if he ever saw Buffy again. Abandonning them twice had done the trick to make him hate her, though he still wished her the best. He just believed now that their destinies…or lives, as he truly hated destiny, were meant to follow different paths. He hoped she made it out alright but, he would be happy if he never saw her again. He still wondered, though, how he'd really feel, seeing her again.

╟℣╢

Amy, Willow, and Oz walked together along the path up towards the mansion, all three in a huff. They hadn't found anything on the glove and, considering that they had lost their most powerful warrior, that was a troubling thought. As they walked up to the doors, however, they stopped.

"Do you hear…" Amy asked.

They did.

╟℣╢

Jonathan smiled to himself as he helped his friend, Andrew, set up the radio and technology system in the old mansion. Andrew had found it one day while trying to find money for an invention of his and Jonathan had figured that it would be the perfect location to set up their version of the Batcave. It had few entrances to guard, was centered perfectly for maximum stealth, and held a phone connection that would allow him and Andrew the ability to look at free porn…the essentials of every crime fighter.

He looked up from the screen as he heard someone enter the mansion and received the shock of his life when he saw who it was.

"Oz," he called, "Willow…Amy."

"Dude, character," Andrew reminded him sternly.

"Jonathan," he resisted the urge to quiver in fear as memories of the last time he had received an interogation, Willow style, about the fish last year, "Where did you get that glove?"

He turned his head down to gaze at the glove that had come to him from the heavens. Immediately, he held the weapon behind his back, though he knew it was useless as they had already seen it.

"What glove," instead of responding, the two females simply raised their arms and he felt a great energy force his arms up. He tried to move but, found himself unable to, even as the guitarist walked over to him. Andrew rose to try and block him but, the rocker simply pushed him out of the way.

"…That's it," Oz stated, with an edge of sorrow in his voice.

"Oh, man," Amy muttered in defeat.

"What," Jonathan asked, wondering what was so sad, "What?"

╟℣╢

Stapleton International Airport, Denver:

Xander walked out of the airport slowly, grateful to finally be released from the metallic cocoon. He came to a stop against the sidewalk and turned his attention to the phonebooth…with a phone in it. He walked inside the booth and pulled out the book and quickly began to look through the pages until he came to the L's.

"Lead…Leeder…Legger…Lehame, Lehamue, Lehane…" Xander grimaced as he closed the book, "But no Faith."

Xander exited the booth and walked down the street, deciding that he would simply do the time honored thing…go out to a cemetery and try to look tasty.

╟℣╢

That night:

Xander sat atop the wall, whistling a toon as he waited. He was beginning to get bored while he waited for Faith to show up. Thankfully, though, he had a picture of her through Willow. So, if she did show up, he would know that it was her. If it was the blonde lady, then he'd simply offer up his services as necessary. That was what a soldier did…seek out your allies and offer them assistance.

He looked up as he heard the sound of drums…or a bunch of feet moving in repeat succession. They were heading in the opposite direction…away from him.

"Time to go to work," Xander stated. With that, the Eagle leapt off the wall and ran towards the sound.

╟℣╢

Faith LeHane, the Slayer, and Lozen, the Apache warrior, were not having the best of nights. The two had been patroling the cemetery, not expecting much resistance, as it had always been during their two weeks together, when they had been suddenly surrounded by at least thirty vampires. Lozen had managed to get off three shots, each making it home, and Faith slammed her stake into two vampires, before they had been forced to make a tactical retreat. The duo moved quickly through the hedgestones, using them to knock up a vampire whenever they could but, they held no hope. The vampires were all in top shape and had obviously planned for the ambush…which meant that there was probably another group of vamps waiting for the two.

Faith didn't want it to end, not like this, and not ever! Not when she had just found one of the many things that had been taken away from her as a youth…a mother. She and Lozen had bonded well during their time, with the young Slayer taking her training in both physical and mental tactics to heart. Moreover, they had forged a bond…the bond of a warrior and an apprentice, and Faith, completely against her former character, had enjoyed it. Before, all her authority figures had demanded…other things of her, but Lozen, while being a woman of incredible beauty, seemed to have so much control over herself that Faith had never even once heard the sounds of passion, not even when, or if, Lozen had decided to satisfy her own needs. The woman seemed to be dedicated to the cause and held it above all else. For Faith, the cause had been to kill demons. For the Apache, it had been about helping people. If that was all it took to satisfy her own needs, then Faith had no choice but to admire her. While she had been a girl out for her own needs (with the exception of the time that she had had a Watcher), she had never seen the true beauty of humanity. A paradox in itself, one that promotes and dejects itself, and one which holds the evil and the guilty, those that she had met, and those that had once been her…the innocent. Lozen had seen that from the beginning and had never lost sight of it. That was hard to do, especially in their business. For that, Faith really respected her, loved her all the more as a mother for it. She wanted to be like her, wanted to do everything as she would. But Lozen had told her to simply be herself, for that person was already more than any could dare ask.

Now, all their joy and sharing was going to come to an end. She knew it even before the six vampires piled on top of them, three to each of them, and pinned them down to the ground.

"You killed Kakistos," one of the vampires stated, "For that, your death shall be slow and painful."

"Where have I heard that before," a sarcastic voice echoed throughout the graveyard.

All motion stopped for a full minute to look up at who had spoken and all were surprised at what they found: a young man, dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a brown shirt, with a leather jacket thrown over it. He held himself with the stance of one who had been trained by the best, of one who knew that a threat was coming and who was prepared for it. The scary thing about him, and the one thing that put them all off, was his eyes: an eerie neon green, a color that simply did not fit with his stonelike face.

"Whoever you are," Lozen called out, intending on saving this young man, even though his intentions were pure, "Leave. They will kill you."

"Probably," he agreed, and an evil grin made its way across his face, making both Slayer and Apache begin to shake in fear, "But, I'll just kill them first."

Before any of them could react, the man reached down and withdrew two pistols. He opened fire.

╟℣╢

Xander watched with grim satisfaction as his bullets made their way through the vampiric bodies, and thankful that the fires didn't touch either women once. He took a moment as the two lay still, in shock most likely, and the vampires flailed about in a vane attempt to put the fires out, to examine the women he rescued. One was a knockout blonde that made him instantly want to drool, while the other one was a dark haired goddess who seemed to scream trouble. They, with the exception of the blonde's Indian-like tan, could possibly have been mother and daughter. The Eagle knew better, however. He knew that Faith's mother could not possibly be anywhere nearby…her Watcher's reports had decided that.

As the vampires began to collapse into their dust, he silently holstered his weapons and came forward to meet them.

╟℣╢

Faith helped Lozen get to her feet before turning her full attention against the man who had come to help them. She hadn't even noticed the guns before he had pulled them out, and that alone was enough to make her antsy.

"Who are you," she snarled at him, doing the Slayer thing and automatically assuming that the man was bad news before thinking.

"Faith," she turned her head to see Lozen scolding her, "This man just saved our lives. If he wanted us dead, he would have simply let them kill us. Control yourself. We'll get our answers."

"No doubts there," they both turned back to the young man, who now held a humourus grin, as though he found something incredibly funny and had to compose himself to keep from blowing up his milk, "You Faith?"

"…Yes," the teen answered, deciding to heed Lozen's advice.

"You ever heard of a lady named Post," the young man asked, "Watcher?"

"Kicked out after she screwed with evil," Faith answered, "Look, I don't dig you asking us questions without giving us a reason to trust you, even when you did save our lives."

"In spite of Faith's way of saying it," Lozen stated with a grin, "I have to agree. Who are you, sir?"

"Name's Xander Harris," he answered, _Don't ring a bell_, Faith thought, "But, you might know me better as 'The Eagle.'"

That rang a bell.

"The Eagle," Lozen asked in awe. Didn't surprise her, seeing as how Faith had shared every single tale she had heard with her.

"Catchy, ain't it," he asked, his grin growing in intensity as he walked close to the duo, but it died to a stoic look when he came to Faith, "…You killed Kakistos?"

She nodded, ignoring the silent pang that she felt every time she heard that name.

"He killed your Watcher," again, she nodded.

The young man reached into his jacket, causing Faith to tense up, expecting a pistol to be pointed at her, even though she knew that she could probably disarm him the second he tried but, instead, he simply pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two plastic glasses. He filled the first glass and handed it off to Lozen, who accepted it unquestioningly, causing Faith to believe that she knew what was happening. The Eagle then filled the other glass but, instead of handing it off to Faith, he gave her the bottle. Silently, he raised his glass, as did Lozen and, after a moment's worth of hesitation, so did Faith.

"To the fallen," Xander said solemnly.

"The fallen," Lozen echoed, and Faith followed her example.

The trio drained the liquid, though Faith only took a swig, not wanting to get hooked like her mother had. For a moment, they did nothing, causing Faith to become selfconscious. She looked up and found both their gazes on her and, suddenly, it dawned on her. Silently, she turned the opening of the bottle to the ground and let a little spill onto the surface.

"…For you," she whispered, knowing her first savior would hear her.

Faith was a strong woman, independent in many forms. However, one thing that she had never been good at was dealing with emotions. In direct contrast to her attitude, she was not as rowdy or carefree as she seemed. She had never been allowed to mourn for her lost friend, mainly because of her crosscountry trek and evasion of Kakistos. Then, Lozen found her, took her to Denver, and helped her. But, no matter how hard the Apache tried, she could never get Faith to open up about what Kakistos had stolen from her. Now, she had been given a chance to mourn and had taken it, mainly due to her confusion but, still, she had taken it. That was enough to break the dam that she had created to withhold the emotion.

She broke down and cried, then collapsed to the ground, her sobs echoing throughout the night. Without any hesitation, Lozen and Xander came to her, hoping to comfort her in some form or fashion.

╟℣╢

The City of Angels:

Anne watched with nothing short of contempt as the vampire, Russel, fell through the air and burned. She turned around and paused at the lawyer, then took his card and placed it in her jacket pocket. As soon as the doors closed behind her, the lawyer walked over to the phone and pressed in a series of buttons.

"Set up a conference meeting," Lindsey McDonald said into the phone, "There's a new player in town."


	13. Salvation vs Damnation

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

_The constant struggle…the eternal divergence…justice is served…salvation is nigh…in life…in death…the greatest of all balancers…shall we find our consolation? Or be left to wander the vastness of our being, with little refuge, save in our own delusions? I ask of you…_

_What is the point in all our crusades?_

╟℣╢

Sunnydale, California…the Hellmouth:

Rupert Giles listened silently as Willow told him over the phone of Jonathan's predicament. The poor, stupid boy had found the glove and just put it on, even after it appeared in the air. He sighed and began to clean his glasses…or, would have if it weren't for the phone. He sighed again.

"Giles," he heard Willow's scared voice and knew that, even though she didn't know Jonathan too well, she cared about what happened to him, "What are we gonna do? The books all say that it can't come off."

"Not without him dying," Giles amended, "…How is Mr. Levinson taking this news?"

"Not good," Willow stated, "He's fine with the glove staying on…he just…wants to be a superhero."

_Bloody colonials._

"…Knock some sense into that boy," he responded, "Make him understand the true dangers of that device. It may well be, in fact, that he will have to wear it until the day he dies. If that is so, then he'll have to be very careful. He could accidentally turn someone into flambé with a simple bit of speech."

"Amy and I'll keep doing research, Giles," she stated over the phone, "If we can find a way to destroy the glove then, maybe we can help him out."

"…If only fate were so willing," Giles remarked, "…Take care, Willow."

"You too, Giles."

She hung up.

╟℣╢

Jonathan stared blankly ahead, not sure how to deal with the situation at hand…the irony of this statement was not lost to him. However, he failed to be amused by it. All he was concerned about was how to deal with it. At first, he had thought, 'me, superhero, be like Thor!' Then, he had gone to Andrew, they had came up with a plan, and a nice setup, too. Then, the gang found them, rallied the two up, and dragged the back to the library. All in all, their plans were put to a screeching halt by the group's words.

He would never be able to get the glove off.

He had never once thought about taking the glove off, not ever. He had been too enthralled in the idea of being a hero. The Scoobies had told him of the dangers, that the glove may never come off and, if it doesn't, that meant that his life was practically over. He couldn't go out, no spell could cover it up (the books mentioned a witch finding it and trying to cover it up, only to be hanged for wearing the glove), he couldn't even truly relax because the glove was a constant danger to everyone around him. Even if he had good intentions, the glove itself was made of pure evil and would corrupt whoever wore it.

Jonathan had, of course, responded with the argument that evil could be tempered for good purposes and, while they did agree with his statement, claimed that even then, the glove was feeding off his life through the spikes in his arms. The price for the power the glove offered would be his life (no wearer of the glove ever lived for more than two years with it on). He had no wish to die but, he didn't want to give the glove up, either. But, again, it wasn't about what he wanted…it was about what was best. If the glove itself would destroy him and others, even if it could be used for good, then the only choice was to destroy the glove.

Of course, Andrew didn't see it that way.

"Dude, you can't give that gauntlet up," Andrew never called it a glove, he called it blasphemous to all superheroes from Captain America to Luke Skywalker, "That'd be like…Han Solo, giving up the _Millennium Falcon_. It's just wrong. We have to-"

"Andrew," he held up his gloved hand with a sigh, "Shut up."

"But, I-"

"Shut…up."

"If you two ladies would stop bickering," Amy scolded them as she walked over, "We might have found a way to get the glove off."

"Really," he perked up immediately, "How?"

"It says here that 'living flame,'" Willow walked over, reading an ancient looking book as she did so, "'the flame of the heart of the one who burns it, can render the glove of the lightning-bringer asunder, forcing it into the dead of night.' Oz had an idea…he has a blowtorch back home and, if we throw the herbs and such into the canister-"

"It can create a beam of living flame," Jonathan said, having caught onto it the second she mentioned the blowtorch.

"Exactly," Amy said, "Plus, it's living flame, it won't harm a human being, not if the person who's creating it holds no hatred towards humanity. We can fry the spikes outta your arms and take it outta you."

"But, it can't be that easy," Jonathan responded, "I mean, I've got spikes in my arm! There's probably something there to jam it up."

"Maybe," Willow agreed, "…When was the last time you used it?"

"Last night," he responded immediately, "I figured out that if I chanted the main incantation over and over again, the lightning would build up a charge within the glove and I could simply recite the projecting incantation instead of having a big storm over my head power the glove every time I said 'Tauo-'"

Before he could finish, Amy slapped him in the jaw.

"Don't say it out here," she scolded him again, "You'll kill us all, you simpering moron."

"Amy," Willow chastised her friend, "Lay off a little bit. Jonathan's got enough problems of his own without being smacked."

Amy nodded, understanding Willow's point of view, but not liking it.

"I think I should empty this thing of its charge," the gloved teen stated his opinion as he held the hand up, "If you do manage to fry the spikes off, it may explode in our faces."

"Good idea," Willow agreed, "Amy, take him out to the football field."

"Really," Amy's eyes lit up at the chance to get back at some of her former oppressors, "Let's go."

"Coming," Jonathan said, equally eager in his expressing his vengeance upon the football team.

"…You know, if you bunned your hair up, you'd look a lot like Princess Leia," Andrew tried to gain the witch's favor, only to receive a piercing glare in return, "…never mind."

_More like Darth Rosenberg_, he muttered in his mind.

╟℣╢

Denver, Colorado:

Xander hung in the background as Faith and her friend, Lozen, spoke to each other, most likely about him and his sudden appearance. He had noticed, as they had walked to Lozen's home, that Faith had been giving him suspicious glances. He couldn't blame her, she obviously held no trust in men due to her upbringing. He could see a fellow abusee a mile away, and his heart ached for her. He hoped that her friend was helping her as best as she could.

╟℣╢

"What do you make of our guest, Faith," Lozen questioned her surrogate daughter of late.

"…I don't know," she responded wearily, "I think he's on the level, but, then again…you never know. But, he did save us. And he is the Eagle. He's methods go right alongside what I've been hearing."

"You can't make judgments based upon reputation alone, Faith," Lozen reminded her, "A person can have a stellar reputation and still be a cold being."

"I know," and Faith really **did** know, "…There's something about him that's rubbing me the wrong way. The neon eyes, the evil grins, and then, poof! Soldier guy. I just…don't know what to make of him."

"He is a paradox," Lozen responded in her usual mannerism, "He is a born soldier, a fighter for whatever cause he takes up and, yet, he is lighthearted and playful, even to the point of comic relief. He is, and yet, is not a true warrior, with discipline and sheer vitality, all wrapped into one being. But, there is something about him…almost predatory. It makes my skin crawl."

"That's the hyena," they turned their attention to their guest, who was sitting in a plush chair just a few yards away, "A few years back, I was possessed by a hyena. Then again by a soldier. Before that, I was a comedian, kinda. I did a spell and, poof, it's all back again. The neon eyes are from the hyena, but my stoic nature is from a combination of the soldier and myself."

Lozen nodded, finding the information to fit with her own analysis.

"Just outta curiosity, do you always speak like that," Xander questioned Lozen with a grin.

Faith decided to vanish into the background, wondering if her friend would explode at the young man's rudeness. Instead, she merely smiled at him.

"You're bold to the point of stupidity," she responded, her face broken out into a smile, "Or stupid to the point of bravery. I don't know which."

"I…guess I'll take that as a compliment," he said, his brow furrowed in thought, "Still, I don't like it when people try to talk down to me."

"On the contrary, I am speaking on your level," she remarked and, at his confused look, continued with, "You, Mr. Harris, while having the genuine appearance and aura of someone who is both dense and stupid, are not either. You are an intelligent young man with an uncanny ability to stay below the radar of another person. You've never really revealed who you are and, if you have, it's very rare and only to those that you trust."

Xander stared at her in awe. No one, not even his friends, had ever come out and said that. He was sure that Giles had often pondered that, given recent events, and perhaps Willow, but none of them had ever told him that face-to-face. It made him…proud, somewhat, but insulted, as well. There was a mixture of emotions, all spurred on by what she had just said. He truly had no idea as to how the Hell he could react to that. 'Thank you' seemed too impersonal, besides, what was the point in thanking her for completely digging up his character? A 'you're welcome' just didn't make sense. No response that he could think of really put anything into words, just made himself seem…confused, which was what he was.

Finally, a response came to him.

"…I hide because I have to," he answered her words, "I cannot flaunt around to the world that I am who I am, that I do what I do…it isn't safe. Before, it was to hide from the popular girls. Now, it's to hide from those that might use my status as a demon hunter to their advantage. No one suspects me of being able to hold my own in a fight," Lozen nodded, remembering her own warning to the young man the second that they had met, "That is my biggest advantage, though it's kinda died down since I gained a rep. And, please, don't call me Mr. Harris. It reminds me of my father."

Lozen nodded, realizing what caused his dislike of the last name as he asked her to not call him by it.

"And what a rep it is," Faith picked up with a grin, "The damn Eagle! Is it true that you knocked off a Marine depot for weaponry?"

"No, it was Army," Xander responded before he could think, then smacked his head.

"You stole weaponry from the Army," Lozen asked, astonished, "I think I owe you an apology, Mr. Harris. My words simply don't do you justice."

"Justice isn't what I worry about," Xander responded, "What I worry about is the lives of the innocent. I may not be able to save them all, but I will save those that I can. As for retribution…it'll come, eventually."

"Lozen's like that," Faith took a moment to dote on her parent figure, "She believes that any human is worth helping, no matter what the cost."

"I get that," he said with a grin, "I really do. But…not all humans can be helped. Some of them are simply too lost and can't be reached."

"I agree," Lozen answered, "Doesn't mean I can't try."

"…I admire you," Xander said, "You have morals. That's something that's dying out nowadays. At least yours aren't stupid."

"Stupid," Lozen wondered, "How can morals be stupid?"

"…Let's say there's this warlock that's going to sacrifice a city, and the only way to stop him is to kill a vampire with a soul. What would you do?"

"Vampire with a soul," Faith asked, astounded at such an idiotic setup, "What the Hell? A vamp can't have a soul."

"One did, back in Sunnydale," Xander informed them, "He helped us by giving us information and occasionally fighting. Now, what's your answer?"

"Dust him," Faith remarked, Lozen nodding her head in agreement.

"…Now, let's say that you've fallen in love with that vampire," Faith snorted, like any Slayer'd ever fall in love with a vamp, "But, you sleep with him. He loses his soul because of that. He kills people, and you have chance after chance to stop him. Do you take those chances or let him go?"

"Take them," Lozen answered, "No vampire, even if he was a former lover, is worth sacrificing the lives of the innocent."

"…Therein lies the problem," Xander sighed and stood up, "Sit down, ladies. This will take a while."

╟℣╢

The City of Angels:

Lindsey McDonald groaned in frustration as he exited his office. None of Wolfram and Hart's files had anything on 'Anne Sumner,' as she was calling herself. Her description didn't match anyone on any file. She had just come out of nowhere and challenged Wolfram and Hart without even a hint of concern. It made no sense. He grimaced as he walked up to his truck and entered it. He fastened up and turned on the engine but, before he could get it in gear, the passenger side door opened.

"Hey, what the Hell-" he shut up as a revolver was pointed directly at his face.

"Drive," the gunner demanded as the door was closed.

Lindsey, finding that he didn't have much choice, drove away from the offices, hoping against hope that someone had noticed the event take place.

"Listen closely, Mr. McDonald," Lindsey grimaced as he realized that he had been specially selected for this, "Yesterday, you had a client go flying out the window and burn up. The perpetrator was a petite redheaded girl with blues eyes, dressed completely in black, correct?"

"Yeah," he turned his gaze over to the passenger seat, "What about her?"

"How would you like some real information on her," the young attorney smiled at the prospect and a folder fell into his lap.

"…Why are you doing this," he knew that it was stupid, asking that question, especially since it didn't matter but, he was curious.

"…I don't care what you do to her," he came to a stop and the door opened, "Just let me be the one to put a bullet in her skull."

With that, Lindsey's visitor departed into the dead of night. The lawyer felt a breath escape his lungs in relief and he decided to go over the information as soon as possible. So, he pulled over onto the curb and opened the folder.

"…'Buffy Anne Summers,'" McDonald read, "'…Vampire Slayer…figure head of the Scooby Gang,' immature much, '…abandoned Scoobies after destroying her lover, Angel, the ensouled version of the vampire Angelus, and sending him to Hell. Returned three months later, only to depart again the next night. Working underneath the alias 'Anne Sumner' and founder of 'Slayers, Inc.,' a PI firm designed to work on supernatural cases. Known affiliates: Rupert Giles, former Watcher; Willow Rosenberg, Wicca; Daniel 'Oz' Osborne, werewolf, lead guitarist for _Dingoes Ate My Baby_; Angel/Angelus, ensouled vampire, died in Hell; Alexander 'Xander' Harris, possessed by hyena and soldier, believed to be 'The Eagle,'" he paused at that, The Eagle was infamous amongst all W&H employees as the man responsible for the death of two of their clients, the Queen of the Werewolves and Robert Belmont…if he could get the Slayer and the Eagle down, he'd be up for CEO within a month…he read on, "'Oliver Pike, private investigator, partner in her PI firm; Denver Admass, demonic researcher; Lily Sumner, her reputed sister; Allen Francis Doyle, half-demon, formerly married to Harriett Doyle, an activist for demonic rights.'"

He searched through the file for a moment and found a picture of her when she had dyed her hair blond. He admired her for a moment and sighed. He didn't want to hurt such a lovely looking girl but, what choice did he have. The second the Sr. Partners found out about her, they had decreed that she be eliminated as soon as possible. Mr. Manners, his boss, had informed him that there had once been a prophecy regarding an ensouled vampire but, since this Sumner had moved in, the prophecy was null (and that he was in charge of the operation to bring Sumner down). Now, he knew the real reason. The only vampire with a soul was dead and they didn't want a loose canon like Miss Summers rocking the boat.

He sighed and thought for a moment. Her friends in Sunnydale were basically unimportant, save for the Eagle but, he very highly doubted that an eighteen year old could pull together the kind of hardware the Eagle was supposed to have. He may have been possessed but, if anything, that just worsened the case to make him the Eagle. The spell to bring back all those abilities was far too dangerous for the Scooby Gang to do. Her LA friends, however, held a bit more promise. And his passenger had been adamant about killing her, but…something else was coming to mind.

"What if she were working for us?"

╟℣╢

Denver:

"…Oh, my God," Faith stated as Xander finished his tale, "…How can she sleep at night knowing that for every death that bastard brought, blood spilled on her hands, too?"

"I don't know," Xander admitted, "I'd like to think that she doesn't but, I can't be sure."

"I must admit, I am fairly revolted by this turn of events," Lozen stated diplomatically, "A Vampire Slayer who is unwilling to do her job because the demon looks like the one she loved. It happens but, even then, I'd like to believe that their sense of morality would overcome their own feelings. But, it didn't, not till the very end. At least she didn't damn the world."

"She would have if I hadn't lied to her," Xander reminded her, "I have no doubts of that."

"…I cannot pass judgment on her until I know both sides of the story," Lozen stated with a grimace, "I'd have to speak with her but, seeing as how she has disappeared, leaving the Hellmouth in the hands of a group of kids and a librarian, I am forced to say that she has acted unwisely. Selfishly, perhaps, it all depends on whether or not she realizes that she has made mistakes and wants to make amends. A question, Alexander," she noticed him cringe at the use of his full name but, ignored it, "If she were to come to you, asking forgiveness, would you accept her plea?"

"No," he responded immediately, "Last time, we didn't even get an apology. We were expected to give her the red carpet treatment, make her feel better. She forgot that we had a tough time too but, we did what we could to try and make her feel welcome. None of it mattered so, no, I wouldn't accept her apology. I'd demand that she prove it to us or stay the Hell away."

"…I understand," Lozen stated after a moment, "…Faith, I want you to go with Xander to the Hellmouth."

"What," Faith asked, not wanting to leave her friend and parental figure, "But, you heard him, they have it under control."

"Even so, I would appreciate it if you would go with him, if only to inspect their operation," Lozen wordlessly drew her into an embrace, one which the raven haired girl responded without to conscious thought, "Faith, I love you…so much. But, I want you to go. I need to know what these people are like, so that I know whether or not I can trust them. I trust your judgment and I cannot allow Denver to go undefended."

"You're not trying to get rid of me," Faith asked, grateful for the reaffirming words.

"Never, Faith," Lozen responded understandingly, "I want you to come home as soon as possible, not to stay there, unless there is a big threat on the loose. I trust you, Faith, and I need you to do this."

The Slayer nodded, thankful for her belief in her, and gently came out of the embrace to see a grinning Xander.

"Nice," he judged them, "Only, there needs to be a little bit more under the shirt action."

"I would never do that to my daughter, Mr. Harris, and…" her gaze lingered on his body for a moment before saying, "You're not my type."

╟℣╢

Sunnydale, California…The Hellmouth:

"There," Oz said as he pried the last spike out of Jonathan's skin, "Bandage up as soon as it's off."

The young werewolf gently eased the glove off the young nerd, who thanked him several times for getting it off. He placed the glove against the desk and turned off the blowtorch.

"We need some more medic crap," Amy stated, "You, nerdboy," Andrew leapt up at the mention of Amy's nickname for him, "Take Jonathan to the nurse's office and get him wrapped up."

The two geeks hurried off in search of the office, neither of them having been there before, all while the Scoobies gathered around the glove.

"So, let's light the thing and call it a night," Amy looked outside the window and grimaced, "Or dawn."

"Wait," Oz ignored their looks and spoke, "I've been thinking about what they said, about using evil for good…they have a point. This glove has some firepower that we could use to our advantage, especially now that it can only feed off the thunder."

"So, what're you saying," Willow asked, worried about his request, "We use the glove every night or something?"

"No," he responded, "Just whenever something big's on the horizon. Like an apocalypse. I believe that this would have come in handy against Angelus."

Willow paused in thought and decided that, yes, he did have a point. But, it was still evil. If they…used it…

"I think I may have a way to do that," Willow said with a pleased grin, "The glove is very powerful and, therefore, very corruptive. We hide it away and dig it out only if we absolutely need it."

"I don't even wanna know where it is," Amy held up her hands, "Just get it away from me. The vibes that thing gives off…they're both seductive and repulsive. It's weirding me out!"

"She has a point," Willow agreed, "I can feel them, too. It'd be much more likely for one of us to be tempted to put it on. What about you? Can you sense it?"

Oz nodded.

"Giles might agree to it, but, he is a mage," Amy stated, "He'd be drawn to it, too."

"Xander, too," Oz remarked, earning a nod of agreement from Willow.

"The only person qualified to hold this would be someone who had resisted it before," Amy said thoughtfully, "But, could we trust him?"

"I wish I knew," Willow answered.

"Let's give him a chance," Oz declared, "At least he should be able to realize when it's time to get rid of it. If not, we can deal with him."

The two mages nodded in agreement. Even if Jon did go happy with the lightning, they could overcome him with the right mixture of tactics.

"Alright," Willow agreed with him, "Soon as he comes in, we'll give it to him, but _after_ Andrew leaves."

The two nodded in agreement.

╟℣╢

Jonathan sighed as he tossed the last bit of dirt into the hole that he had created. When they had told him to keep the glove safe, he had decided that the best thing he could do was bury it. He needed to be as far away from it as he could but. So, he had gone deep into the woods and dug out a deep hole, then hidden it down at the bottom. He knew that it might create a problem if an apocalypse did come but, he couldn't bring himself to care. For him, it was all a test of will.

"My Pandora's box," he muttered to himself as he sat down.

The second they had given him those instructions, he had made a vow to help them in any way he could. And help them, he would. Hell be damned if it tried to stop him.

╟℣╢

Long Beach, California:

Lindsey McDonald waited inside the reception room of the million dollar mansion that his colleague, Lee Mercer's client was able to afford. Warren Meers, inventor of the first generation of pure robots capable of actual intelligence and thought, had signed on with W&H as a client and they utilized all their skills in selling his invention to strip clubs and pornography industries all over the world, making both him and them (the firm got a lot more, obviously) very rich. Warren had first designed seventeen template models for the engineers to improve upon as they saw fit. After they were done getting the schematics and whatnot for the robots, Warren reprogrammed them to be his house servants. In other words, he had eighteen (including the original, April) beautiful women as proverbial slaves, each of them willing to do whatever he asked. A few stars, both upcoming and old, had bought several robot look-alikes to help in their business.

In other words, the bastard was fully loaded.

"Mr. McDonald," Lindsey looked up and felt the sudden urge to thank whatever force it was looking out for evil when he saw the scantily clad Nubian queen before him, "Warren will see you now."

He nodded, wiping the drool discreetly off his face, and stood up. He followed the robot, gazing at her fantastic behind all the way, down to the basement, which served as the inventor's workshop. W&H had sent over technicians and mages to ensure that no competitors could ever gain access to the young man's genius.

"Warren," the Nubian called out, "Mr. McDonald is here."

"Thank you, Trina," he heard a teen voice call back, "Give him a gift on your way out."

"Yes, Warren," before the attorney could even begin to think of what the ramifications of that statement meant, the robot grabbed both his arms and plunged her lips and tongue into his mouth. Before he could even react, she had placed one arm against her breast and the other against her butt. Even though he knew this was a bunch of circuits and wires thrown together, he could not help but get excited. He responded with as much passion as he could but, it ended far too soon for the lawyer's liking. The Nubian pulled away and left with a seductive wink, waggling her ass hypnotically as she did so.

He stared after her for a moment, then shook his head and returned to the business at hand.

"Mr. Meers," he greeted the inventor formally with an extended hand but, the young man was busy at work on an orb of some kind, "I'm appreciative that you were able to see me on such short notice."

"Hey, you're with Wolfram and Hart, you get the special treatment, Sparky," Warren said as he began to cover the orb in some kind of powder, "Ugh, what is this about, Lindsey? I'm kinda busy here."

"I was wondering if perhaps you be willing to take an order for me."

"You could've gone to the company instead of me," Warren responded as he wiped off his hands, "Why not?"

"I want something special done with this one," Lindsey responded, "And I want a guarantee that it comes out right."

Warren pursed his lips in thought, then asked, "Who's it for?"

"Buffy Summers, I believe you know her," Warren's eyes glazed over at the thought of the Slayer, "I intend on…compelling her to join our firm and, I believe that a visit from the right 'person' might help push her in the right direction."

╟℣╢

_The easier of the channels…the surge of the stream…iniquity reigns supreme…damnation comes free…in death…throughout life…the balance angled…where shall we make our indignity known where it is not already known? Shall we hide in lonely waters, with not but bones and debris for company? I wonder…_

_What is the point in all our crusades?_

_- The Lost Crusade_ _by American Soldier_


	14. Violence

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

╟℣╢

_Few people can be happy unless they hate some other person, nation, or creed._

_  
- __Bertrand Russel_

╟℣╢

Sunnydale, California…the Hellmouth:

Faith sighed joyfully as she got off the exit ramp from the plane. She had decided, particularly when they had encountered a fairly bad storm on the way, that she preferred walking to her destinations instead of flying. She would be running home before she got on a plane. She turned her head back to check on her new pall.

Xander was dressed in his usual garb (jeans, leather jacket, boots) but, while he had been in town, he had picked up a replica of the Medal of Honor, which he said his former soldier self had been awarded upon his death. He wore it on the inside of his jacket, just to feel a little bit closer to his spirit self. She had asked him if he believed in that hippy shit about peace and the sun-god, or whatever the Hell they believed in. He just smiled and said 'I believe in us.' The bastard may not be hiding anymore but, she really wished he would. He was just too damn confusing most of the time.

She looked away from him and up towards the front…where there was a great gathering of people with a sign labeled 'X-man!' Up in front were two short teens, one girl with red hair and a boy with dyed black hair and panted nails. Beside them, clutching a cane, was a beautiful brunette dressed in the latest fashion. Behind them, clutching the sign, was a tall man dressed in tweed, with a young brunette girl to his side. Xander walked up ahead of her, a wide smile on his face, and he hugged all three girls, who responded back with a smile, and shook hands with the guys. Faith hung back, nervous of their reaction to her.

"Everyone," she swallowed down her nervousness and plastered a grin onto her face as Xander began to introduce her, "I'd like for you to meet Faith, our missing Slayer," she waved politely to them, trying to remember what she could of Lozen and what she would do, "Faith, this is Rupert Giles, Buffy's former Watcher."

The Englishman came forward and gently took her hand in his, saying, "I'm terribly sorry for what happened, my dear…If you should wish to speak about it, I am always at the ready."

"Thanks, G-man," she said, adopting her ritual of giving everyone a nickname but, the surprising part was when everyone of them, including Giles, burst out laughing, "What?"

"That's what I call him, Faith," Xander said through his laughter.

"…Scary, X," Faith said with a grin, even as the Watcher went back and the redhead approached.

"This is my lifelong friend, Willow Rosenberg," Xander introduced her.

"Hi," the perky redhead greeted her, "You went to Denver, right," Faith nodded an affirmative, "Was it boring there?" She nodded, but, only because things had been worse in Boston and she had spent a total of two weeks in Denver, "You'll never be bored here, Faith, cause this is Sunnydale, home of the big, brewing evil."

The raven haired Slayer grinned at the Wicca's humor. Oh, yeah…she liked this one.

"This is Oz, resident rocker slash werewolf," Xander said as the short male came forward.

"That's five by five with me," Faith said as she exchanged one of the ritual handshake of rockers from Boston, one that she had learned in the mosh pits, with the werewolf. Oz got it completely right the first time, thereby impressing the Bostonian and instantly causing her to like him.

"Hey," he greeted her.

"Hey," she responded.

"You cool," he asked.

"Yeah," she answered, "You?"

"Cool."

She nodded her head and the wolf nodded back, then went to rejoin the others. The girl with the walking stick came forward with a million dollar smile.

"Cordelia Chase, my girlfriend."

"Hi," Faith shook hands with Cordy and smiled, "Hmm…leather…lots and lots of it…it looks good, a bit trashy but, good. You have to come shopping with me, I'll buy you some new clothes."

Faith felt the need to simply cuss this bitch out but, the work was done for her.

"Weren't you just eyeing a leather skirt in the store the other week," Willow asked daintily.

"…I love your hair," Cordelia smiled at Faith.

"And this is Amy, another friend of ours since first grade," the brunette witch came forward with a grin.

"Hi, Faith," Amy greeted her warmly, "How was the flight?"

"Horrifying," Faith remarked honestly, "We passed through a storm on the way here."

"Ouch," Amy sympathized, "Tough break."

"Well, come along, everyone," Giles ushered them towards the hall, "Um, Faith, where will you be staying tonight?"

"I dunno, just figured I'd crash in a hotel."

"Oh, you'll do no such thing," Giles said, politely taking her bag from her, "You will stay at my house. As a former Watcher, it is only my pleasure and duty to do so."

Faith felt her heart warm greatly, "…Thanks, G…Giles."

╟℣╢

That night, the group was gathered in the library or, rather, Giles and Willow were. Xander was taking the night off to help Cordy in her bedridden state, so Faith was going to be working with Amy. Giles was, as always, home base but, this time, due to his injuries, he had installed a spell designed to keep any demonic entities from entering his office, just in case an attack occurred. He would remain there, using the computer (Willow was giving him a crash course, even as they waited for Faith and Amy) to do any needed research.

The Englishman pinched his nose as he listened to Willow teach him about computers.

_Please get here soon_, he found himself silently wishing, _Please, just bloody please get here soon!_

"Yo, G-man," for once, that infernal nickname was like a gift from Heaven, "Where're ya?"

"In here, Faith," he stood up quickly and bolted for the door, only to stop as soon as he exited the room.

"Giles, would you mind," Willow tried to get out of the office but, found his form blocking her, "I'd kinda like to…to…"

She stopped speaking completely as she managed to see why Giles had stopped moving. There, standing in the library, were Faith and Amy. Faith was, of course, dressed up in her usual painted on leather garb. Amy, on the other hand, was dressed in knee high red leather boots, a black leather skirt, and a red blouse, the first two buttons unbuttoned, allowing the world to see her cleavage. It was covered up by a dark leather jacket that reached down to her ankles. She wore a black choker around her neck, with small, blood red crosses all over it. She was wearing black eyeliner and had dyed a black line down her hair from front to back, making it look like she had some kind of weird Mohawk.

She saw them gawking at her and smiled leisurely.

"Hey," she greeted them and began to twirl around, "What do you think? Sexy?"

Giles, instead of answering, simply turned and walked back into his office, saying, "Willow, you were teaching me about the computer, yes?"

Willow, however, stayed put, mesmerized by the sight before her. That stopped, however, when Giles's arm snaked out of the office and jerked her inside, closing the door behind her as he did so.

"I think you freaked them out," Faith deadpanned.

"They'll get over it," Amy responded.

The two leather-clad babes turned abruptly and walked out the library, already aware of tonight's plan for patrol.

╟℣╢

Oz followed Willow slowly, wondering what was up with her. She had barely said two words to him, whereas, ordinarily, she couldn't stop talking to him. Tonight, however, she refused to speak. He was used to the quiet, had lived in it all the time, but…that was part of why he loved her. She was the polar opposite of him…opposites attract and all that. He wondered what was wrong with her. Sighing, he decided to simply wait for her to open up.

Before she got the chance, however, he heard a rustling behind them.

"Willow," he called out, and she stopped.

Within a moment, the two were surrounded by seven vampires, each one a hulking mass of muscles.

"Witch," one of them called out, "Come with us and we won't kill your-"

Before he could finish speaking, however, Oz had pulled his crossbow around and launched an arrow into the unbeating heart. Willow threw both her hands up and cast two firebolts out. Both found their targets and, within the first few seconds, the odds of the fight had changed dramatically.

That was, of course, till the four remaining charged.

╟℣╢

Faith yelled out in jubilation as she drove Xander's car down the road. The Eagle had thrown her the keys after showing her their weapons area (a bomb shelter, filled with modern, medieval, and specialty weaponry…she had literally drooled when she saw it) and told her to bring it back by dawn. So, after taking Amy out for some clothes shopping, courtesy of Cordelia (Xander had talked to her and convinced the heiress that Faith and Amy could both use a break from their sorrows). The two were driving down the road, listening to blaring rock music and banging their heads…that is, until some idiot jumped out into the middle of the road right as they came.

Faith cussed her brains out as she slammed on the breaks, hoping that X's car hadn't been damaged. She groaned and shook her head, then turned her attention to Amy.

"You five by five," the witch nodded and groaned.

"He alive," she asked.

Faith opened her door and stood up, then answered, "No…and neither are his friends."

Seven vampires walked out of the darkness and surrounded the car.

"Seven vamps," Faith counted, "And one Vampire Slayer and one Witch. Who's gonna win?"

Amy smiled as she said, "This isn't even a competition."

╟℣╢

Willow hit the deck the second the vampire leapt at her, and twisted over onto her back. The two vamps that had come at her slammed into each other and, before they hit the ground (or her), she tossed a blast of fire up at them. They turned into ash before they even hit her…she did, however, get burned a little from the ashes.

Oz, however, hadn't been so lucky. Both his vamps had slammed full on into him, sending him down to the ground, his crossbow knocked out of his grasp. Willow got up as quick as she could to help her boyfriend, who was wrestling with the two vampires for his life. She charged at them and bulled into the top vampire, sending him off the werewolf. The vampire turned his attention back to her as soon as he stopped moving and threw a punch at her. She felt it slam into her jaw, then, all was dark.

Oz growled furiously and kicked out against the demon, sending him flying high into the air. The werewolf didn't even think about what he was doing, he simply went with his instincts. He charged forward and drove his foot into the offending vampire's neck, sending it away from his love. He grabbed a stake off of his belt and slid along the ground to his knee, then used that momentum to drive the wooden weapon deep into the beast's chest, destroying its undead heart. He then jumped up again and ran towards the final vampire, who was just then beginning to stand.

Looking for a quick end to the fight, Oz thrust his foot into the vamp's groin, causing it to groan in pain and clutch itself. The wolf finished it off with a spinning heel kick that connected right against its neck, sending the creature down to the ground. He didn't even give it the dignity of being truly staked, but just tossed the pointy object at its chest and walked away the second it became dust.

The young man got down to his knees and began to check over the redhead, only to pause as he noticed his hands. They were covered in fur, with sharp talons defining the fingernails for what they once were. Gently, he reached up and caressed his face, only to find that his fears were justified. He had changed during the fight, the second he had seen his Willow harmed. He paused and took several deep breaths, trying to reign in his fear over hurting Willow, and closed his eyes. After a few deep, slowly released breaths, he opened them again and looked down at his hands…which had returned to normal.

He didn't even say 'huh,' just picked the redhead up and began to make his way back to the library, completely forgetting about the two-way radio he had.

╟℣╢

Faith launched a haymaker against the first vamp, sending the creature down to its knees. She withdrew her stake and drove it home, causing it to dust. She then launched her fist into the next vampire's chin, throwing it high up in the air. Before she could go after it, however, she felt another force grab her and pull her around. Before she even realized it, she was looking into the eyes of a sadistic lunatic.

"Be in my eyes," she heard, and it echoed within the very recesses of her mind, "Be in me."

She looked…she was.

╟℣╢

Drusilla giggled happily as she felt the big, bad Slayer come underneath her control. She would dance with merriment and blood tonight, never to be alone again. The stars told her so.

"Won't it be fun, Miss Edith," she asked her doll as her minions carried the two girls along, both trapped underneath her enchantment, "There'll be cake, with a lovely eaglet as the main course."

╟℣╢

Xander ran into the library as fast as he could. Oz had gotten Willow back safely after the attack, then tried to radio to Faith and Amy to warn them, only to come back with static. The werewolf had called him the moment that happened.

"Update," he yelled to the group.

"Willow's using the satellites to try and track their signals," Oz informed him, "It's not working out, though. There are too many radios, police scanners, frequencies to follow. Could take time."

"What happened," Xander asked.

"We were surrounded, six or seven vamps," Oz said as he remembered, "We got three first, then the other four stampeded us, so seven. Willow managed to burn two of them, but I got hit before I could do anything. She rammed into one of them to get it off me and…when I saw that…"

Xander grabbed his friend's shoulder gently, letting him know that he had his support.

"…I changed," the youth's eyes widened upon learning that, "Not completely, but, I changed…I was so angry at them for threatening her…I changed, killed them, and brought her back."

"Why aren't you wolfed out now, though," Xander asked.

"I took a second to calm down before I brought her back," Oz informed him.

"…We'll look into it, I swear," Xander stated as he walked away and grabbed a radio from the desk, "But, now, we have our priorities. Willow, keep on working on locating them. If you don't have something in the next fifteen minutes, use a locator spell."

"Hold on, I got something," Willow called back without taking her eyes off the computer, only to pause as she rubbed one of her bruises, "Xander's, your, car. It's in the industrial district…pretty close to the old warehouse."

"That means that it's Spike and Drusilla, or one of their lackeys," Xander grimaced as he walked over and looked at the screen, "And they have two of our own in there."

"I'm going to use this satellite to scan the building," Willow told them as she continued to hack into, what looked to Xander, to be a government satellite, like he could care about laws when it came to helping his friends, "It'll pick up the heat signatures and, for every vampire, it should come up darker than usual. Humans should be orange. Ok, here it is."

The screen changed colors, turning black with the outline of the building. There were, however, ten to fifteen extremely black spots, with two orange spots down deep beneath the structure. To the side of one of them was an extremely dark area.

"It's gotta be either Spike or Drusilla," Xander muttered, "One of the lackeys would never stay in a room with a Slayer and a witch."

He took a moment to memorize the structure of the warehouse.

"Windows all along the top with catwalks," he said as he looked at the blueprints that Willow had alongside the inferred scans, "Few windows on the bottom, two doors, one at each end, along with a small garage. The basement's too close to the floor for bombing, could kill one of them."

He took a moment to think and, in that moment, he remembered something that could come in handy. He abruptly left the table and ran over to the shelves, searched around for a second until he withdrew a heavy looking book, one which Willow was very familiar with.

"What spell do you want," she asked immediately.

"Sun spell," he answered, "Willow, you and Oz are going in first. You two are the smallest and those catwalks might be dangerous after the fire so, you're the least likely to fall. Will, you cook up a quick sun spell and, when you and Oz are in position, toss it right in the middle. As they run for cover, you and Oz take them down with crossbows or rifles, whatever's your preference.

"In the mayhem, Giles and I will come in through the rear entrance," he pointed to the only ground-level entrance close to the basement, "We'll proceed down to the basement and rescue the girls. You two stay up there, watch our backs till we leave. If we're not out in five minutes, get down there and bail us out. Got it?"

The Wicca and the werewolf nodded.

"Let's go," Giles roared as he grabbed a sword and charged out the doors.

"Not yet," Xander called, "The sun spell!"

"Oh, right."

╟℣╢

Faith watched the pale vampire sashay across the room. As she watched, she felt her skin aching for her touch. She wanted the vampire to taste of her, to drink from her. She wanted to feel the fangs as they pierced her beautiful skin. She knew, somewhere in her mind, she knew that it was wrong but, she was trapped underneath the woman's spell. She wanted only that…to be released and, the only way it would happen would be through her death.

"Dear little raven, so short and sweet," Drusilla made her way over to Faith, and she hoped that she would soon have her wish, "Will you sing for mummy?"

"What do you want me to sing, mummy" she responded, her voice dead.

"_The lamb is caught in the…blackberry patch_," the vampire roughly groped Faith's right breast as she said this and, instead of furthering her control of the Slayer, it brought an instinct out…an instinct that had been there since the moment of her birth.

The instinct to fight back after being molested.

"NO," the Slayer roared as she leapt up and grabbed the vampire by the throat.

Drusilla responded by backhanding her, hard, and sending her into the staircase. Before the raven haired woman could make a move for freedom, however, the insane vampire bent down and picked up an iron bar. She drew it back and slammed it down against her neck. Had she been human, the blow would have been enough to kill her or, at least, put her in a wheelchair. Thankfully, though, she was a Slayer and, while it did not permanently injure her, it did block a few moments of blood flow to her brain, enough to send her into a state of unconsciousness.

Amy, who had been watching the exchange indifferently, suddenly felt a great quell of fear clutch her heart. She didn't want that to happen to her. She didn't want it happening to her friend, either. She didn't want it happening period. Slowly, she climbed out of her enchantment and began to build up the energy required for a blast of fire, only to stop as Drusilla turned her gaze upon her. She found herself once more trapped in her eyes and she fell, headfirst, into the vampire's magic.

"Poor little witch," the vampire climbed upon the bed and gently made her way over to her, "You will burn, for so little. Do you want mummy to make you burn?"

Amy didn't answer. This seemed to infuriate Drusilla, who grabbed her roughly and pinned her down beneath her own body. She ripped the choker off, ignoring the burning of her hand as she did so, and gazed down upon her neck.

"…What will they sing when they find your body?"

She slowly bent down, her face a demonic mask of evil, intent on her task. Before she could drive her fangs into the soft skin, however,…the air above them erupted in screams.

╟℣╢

Willow watched in satisfaction as her spell took hold over the place, charbroiling several vampires on the spot. She turned her gaze away and grabbed her crossbow and began to fire upon the crowd. Oz was doing the same on the catwalk across from her. So far, all their opposition was either dead or fleeing, and there were none between the rear entrance and the basement access. Clear sailing.

╟℣╢

Xander and Giles entered the building the second they heard the blast and charged in, ignoring the dust and the vampires that became dust as they were hit by crossbows. Giles decapitated one vampire on the way, not even breaking pace to do so, and the two charged down the stairs towards the basement. There, they found the door

Giles reached to open it, only to find it, "Locked."

Xander turned his rifle around, after putting the safety on, and began to bash it with the butt. The old door didn't stand a chance against the rifle and, within a few seconds, the door was down.

"Four minutes," Giles informed him.

"Let's go," the duo ran down the stairs as fast as they could.

As they reached the bottom, they were met with two horrible sights: Faith, lying near the stairs, unconscious and Drusilla atop Amy, allowing the young girl to drink from her arm.

Giles saw Faith first and bent down to help her, while Xander saw red. Before he even realized what he was doing, he had covered the distance from their to the bed and leapt forward, catching the vampire by surprise and throwing both her and himself into the wall. He grabbed a hold of his rifle and began to beat the vampire's weakened body with the butt, never stopping once, ignoring the pleas from her demonic lips. He saw nothing but the rifle, saw nothing more than its constant downward spiral.

Finally, he came out of it. Slowly, he regained his ability to see the world around him and, when he stopped plowing the rifle into the demon, he saw what he had done. Lying there was little more than a bloodied skull, crushed arms, and a caved in ribcage. The vampire wasn't moving an inch, save for a few whimpers in her state of catatonia. Xander sighed and looked down at his bloodied rifle before standing up. He cleaned the butt of with the blankets on the bed, then turned his attention to Amy.

The witch was barely breathing, her lips covered with the ambrosia of vampiric blood. Her eyes were closed, her skin was pale. She would die soon, either from blood loss or from the vampiric blood.

"Giles," he called out, "Take Amy, I'll get Faith out."

The deathly pale Englishman nodded and gently scooped the teenager into his arms. He walked up the stairs with her, careful to not let her head or feet hit the walls.

Xander turned back to the vampire and did not hesitate as he began to fill her dead body with bullets.

╟℣╢

"I don't know how to explain it," a doctor was telling the group later that night, "Miss Madison's blood levels are normal, but, it's like there's this foreign chemical that's sweeping throughout her blood. It's killing off her organs, one by one. We've done a transfusion but, it isn't helping. At the rate that her organs are shutting down, it could be…a day, tops. I'm…very sorry."

With that, the medical practitioner turned and moved on to the next crisis. The group, Xander, Willow, Oz, Giles, Faith, and Cordelia, who had arrived when Xander called her, shut down for a moment, no one asked anything or did anything. Just…stared. The first question asked was…

"What can we do," it was asked by Willow.

"I don't know," Giles responded, "I've never seen anything like this before. Normally, every person to be given vampire blood receives enough to become one or enough for it to be destroyed by the antibodies. I've never seen a case in between."

"…What'll happen to her," Xander questioned, "Will she become some kinda half-vampire?"

"Those are myths," Giles answered, "Never before has there been a half-vampire, as the comic book _Blade_ styles. There's either human or vampire, no in-between."

"But, still, there's gotta be something we can do," Oz stated, "A healing spell or something."

"This is a mystical problem, Oz," Giles said as he cleaned his glasses, "Magic won't help her, unless you intend to kill her before she can be turned."

That forced the entire group into silence. Their first casualty since…

Faith shook her head in denial. No, this girl was not going to die. She would do something, anything, and Amy would live. She had to. She was the…

"G," the Watcher turned his gaze against her and she swallowed, gathered her courage, and asked, "Is there anything **I** can do? Anything a **Slayer** can do?"

He looked at her oddly, not sure what she meant. Then, it clicked into place and his eyes gleamed as he realized what she meant.

"Slayers do have certain chemicals in their bodies that fight off vampiric blood," Giles informed them, "Ordinarily, if any drop of vampire blood does get into a Slayer's body, it means that she's either dying or unconscious and it's too late to save her. Perhaps…if you did a transfusion on her, maybe…Faith, what blood type are you?"

"B," she answered.

"Amy's AB," Willow remarked, her eyes alit with hope, "They're compatible."

"Doc," Faith turned and shouted out for the doctor that had left them, "Yo, Doc!"

"Yes," the doctor said as he turned away from a nurse and looked to her, "What can I do for you?"

"Aims is in there," she pointed towards Amy's room, "I wanna give her my blood."

"…Let's check and see if you can," the doctor said, guiding her down the hall to another lab.

╟℣╢

The City of Angels:

Anne looked up from her desk as she heard the door open, only to gasp in shock as she saw who it was.

"Wow, gotta admit," Xander said as he walked inside and stared around the hotel, "Was expecting something a little more…cardboardy."

"Xander," she said with a small smile as she stood up, happy to see her former friend…she hoped he wasn't there to dig into her, "What're you doing here?"

"Well, I came up to LA to get some artillery for the Eagle when I heard of this place," Xander said merrily as he came deeper inside, "Figured we might find some allies. Oh, well. Can't be successful all the time."

"What," Anne asked, confused, "What do you mean?"

"Well, I was hoping to find someone who would actually do their job, not let every vampire go that wonders across her bed."

She felt a stab of pain go through her body at his statement and was about to retort, only to stop herself just in time. The odds were that her friends were all still bitter, even more now, about what happened. He probably deserved that. Still hurt.

"Xander," she tried to reach him, only for him to scowl at her.

"Don't do that," he told her, "I'm not your friend anymore. You can call me Harris, but you don't have the right to call me Xander. Not anymore."

Anne found something incredibly wrong with that statement but, before she could put her finger on it, the realization of what he had just said came into place. He was even madder at her now, and she did not want that. She wanted his forgiveness, not his animosity. But…would she be given the chance?

"Xander," she ignored her friend's demand as she pleaded, "Look, I realize that you guys are still angry with me, and I-"

"Angry," Xander asked with an evil smile, "Angry! Angry doesn't even begin to describe it, Buffy. The sheer sight of you right now sickens me. In fact, I don't even know why I'm still here. I got better things to do than spend my time in the company of an accessory to murder."

Anne, in a moment that she would come to regret, completely forgot about her revelations earlier. Her ire peaked, the former Slayer surged forward and grabbed the young man before he could leave.

"Get your hands off me," he growled to her.

"No," she responded, her brain no longer in the driver's seat, "You listen to me! You have no idea what it was like to have to send him to Hell! You don't have the right to judge me, not on this!"

"The right," he shouted at her, "The right to judge! Why the Hell not? You judge us all the time! It's always **you** who makes a difference, right? The Slayer's the law!"

"Yes, that's right," she said, "I am the Slayer, not you! You have no idea what it's like to be me!"

"And I don't want to, either," he responded, "I'd rather be a lowly mortal than be a hypocritical slut with necrophilia!"

"You didn't care," she shouted at him, "All you did when I came back was treat me like shit and brag about how good you had been doing without me! Then, I ask you over, and you invite a damn mosh pit with you! You didn't care about how I felt! I was made the damn SCAPEGOAT for it all, while you all got away with nothing! You don't care, not even now!"

Xander, for once, didn't appear to have a comment. He seemed lost for a moment then, in what Buffy found to be a typical fashion, said, "You are nothing more than a little cheerleader who let the bleach eat through to her skull. I should have let you die when I found you in the Master's Cave!"

"Without Angel, you wouldn't have found me," she retorted.

"Then you should have done your duty in the first place and staked him the moment you saw him! You deserve every bit of shit that comes your way and I hope that you fry in Hell with your little dog!"

She lost it. In one singular movement, she had tossed Xander across her shoulder and onto the steps. She ignored his cry of pain and began to beat the proverbial crap out of him. She didn't think…she didn't realize what she was doing…she didn't care about what she was doing.

She continued to beat him senseless until she heard screams and felt a pair of arms encircle her waist and pull her away from him. She reacted and pushed whoever it was away but, before she could continue on in her assault, she saw someone get in her way.

"Buffy, stop," it was Pike.

All of a sudden, reality came screeching back to her. She looked down at her bruised friend, blood coming out his nose and mouth, and gasped in horror.

"Oh, God," she whispered, "Oh, God, please, no!"

She heard a groan behind her and turned to see Doyle struggling back to his feet. She felt her inner turmoil worsen upon seeing her friend like that. All that damage, done by her in a moment of blind rage.

"What have I done," she asked no one in particular.

"…You killed him," she turned again to see Oliver on his knee, two fingers against Xander's neck, a downtrodden look on his face, "…Buffy, what have you done?"


	15. Kind Words

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

_You can get much farther with a kind word and a gun than you can with a kind word alone._

_Alphonse 'Scarface Al' Capone_

╟℣╢

The City of Angels:

Anne Sumner sat in her cell, staring blankly ahead at the wall. She couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it. But, it was true.

She had killed Xander Harris.

The LAPD had come about ten minutes after Pike and Doyle had found her, and had taken statements from all of them. They all covered up for her, knowing that her duty was more important than the death of one person, but…she couldn't do it. She had lost it completely and, as a result, one of her friends…former friends, was dead. She had confessed the moment the police had come and was currently awaiting trial. She didn't want to go to prison but, she couldn't let this go. She had been punished for all the destruction that Angelus had caused when she had her Slayer status revoked, which she had conveniently forgotten to mention to him, and now, she was going to be punished for what she had done to Xander.

She was not the law. She was a soldier, and there was a difference. The soldier is allowed to kill, but only when it is necessary. And she had no right to kill him, not just because he had said something hurtful to her. He was entitled to his opinion and she had no right to tell him how to think. But, none of it mattered anymore. She was going to spend the rest of her life in jail…she deserved it, and she was going to get it.

╟℣╢

"Your Honor, I must protest," Lindsey said in the courtroom that day, "To allow these proceedings to go on, even when the officers did not take photographs of the crime scene, and when the morgue did not do an autopsy **before** several bodies were stolen from it, including the quote 'victim,' and when the victim has been confirmed to still be safely in Sunnydale, California, is simply against the law. The prosecution has no evidence whatsoever and, as such, we move for dismissal, Your Honor."

Judge Hawthorne sighed as he reviewed Wolfram and Hart's request. They did have a point. The victim was confirmed to be in Sunnydale, California, thus making the entire case an oddity. Aside from that, the arresting officers hadn't taken any photos since they had the confession (they'd be losing their badges in a few hours) and the body was missing so, aside from the testimony of the accused, the prosecution had absolutely nothing to go by. If they went back to try and obtain evidence, the defense would simply argue that all evidence found would be irrelevant as it was an office and many people came in and out all day and any evidence found could, in fact, be unconnected to the case. Aside from that, he really did not want to have to deal with W&H, not again.

"Does the prosecution have anything to say," they shook their heads, "In that case, I have no choice but to declare this case dismissed."

╟℣╢

Lindsey smiled as he left the courtroom. As he walked, he ran into Warren, the brilliant boy who had made his scheme a reality.

"Did it work," he asked immediately.

"Exactly as planned," Lindsey responded, "The bot bled, just like you designed it to. It even took a few bodies after it ended up in the morgue to make it look like some kind of robbery. You did good, Warren."

"So," the young inventor smiled as he held his hand out for the check, which Lindsey gratefully gave him, "How are you going to get Buffy on your side?"

"By holding this over her head," he responded, "We threaten to bring in the body and the evidence that the police **did** take, but don't remember taking, and hang her out to dry."

"And, if that doesn't work," Warren's face lit up like a Christmas tree, "I have a new invention. I call it the Cerebral Dampener. It will turn any woman into a willing, sex slave."

Lindsey smiled. The boy was a genius, that much was sure. Now, he was certain that he'd have Anne Sumner for his team on Wolfram and Hart.

╟℣╢

"Anne," Lily tried to speak to her sister as Denver drove them back to the hotel, "Anne, do you wanna talk about it?"

She shook her head. She was keeping them out because she didn't want comfort. She had been let off today for a crime that she had committed, and she hated it. She wanted to be punished for her acts and the law firm whose client she had burned a while ago had gotten her off for it. She didn't know what was going on but, she wanted to find out.

╟℣╢

Doyle and Pike watched the law firm from their place in Doyle's car. Neither liked what they saw.

"I don't believe it," Pike muttered as he looked through binoculars, "They've got so much security in that damned building…it's like trying to break into a fort."

"Only it's easier **with** a fort," Doyle muttered before sighing, "What're we going to do, man? Anne's tore up about it as it is and, now with their involvement, it's just-"

"Hold on," Pike told him as he continued looking, "…Hand me that picture of the kid."

The half demon handed Pike a picture of Xander from Anne's collection. The PI looked at it, then looked through his binoculars and grinned.

"Either I'm seeing a ghost," he muttered to himself, "Or, I'm seeing a vampire."

Without hesitation, he turned the vehicle on and drove out of the place. He drove quickly down the small lot towards an oblivious Xander and, before the being had even the slightest chance to turn his head, Pike rammed him with his car. The body went flying through the air and landed roughly against a pole. His head was cracked open from the sheer force of the blow and he did not move, even as Doyle and Pike climbed out and went over to inspect the body.

When they arrived, they were met by sparks as Xander's body began to flame up.

"Boy's a robot," Pike muttered to himself as he turned his head towards the law firm, "Which means that they're up to something."

╟℣╢

Anne watched the young lawyer make his case to her. So, they were holding her friend's death over her head in an attempt to get her to join them. Smart, except, she wanted to be punished.

Without hesitation, she punched the man and sent him down to the ground.

"Get this, asshole," she said to Lindsey, "I don't care if you do tell them. I killed him, I deserve to be punished. Go ahead and bring the body back, get me on murder. I don't care!"

"He can't, anyway," both looked up towards the doors as Pike and Doyle came in, the latter with Xander's robotic head in his hand, "Boyo was a robot."

Anne stared at the head for a moment, then turned her gaze towards Lindsey. He gulped in fear.

╟℣╢

Sunnydale, California…the Hellmouth:

Faith sat beside Amy's hospital bed, waiting for her friend to come out of her slumber. She had been out for four days straight after the transfusion, with little improvement, aside from the fact that the strange chemical seemed to have died. It wasn't true, however. Giles had said that the vampire and Slayer essence were now at war within the witch's body, her own magic doing nothing to stem the stalemate in anyone's favor. It was only a matter of time before all her energy died, her along with it. She wanted to do something but, damn it, she couldn't. All any of them could do now was…wait and hope.

She looked up as she heard a knock at the door.

"Yeah," she called, wiping away the silent tears that she hadn't been aware of before the person entered.

The person, in fact, turned out to be Giles. She sighed, happy to see her elder friend.

"Hey, G," she greeted him informally, "How's it going?"

"As…well as can be expected," Giles said as his gaze lingered upon his charge's expiring body.

"…How're the guys dealing," Faith asked, more for the conversation than for the worry.

"…Willow is taking it the hardest," she nodded, those two had a bond together with the magic and all, "Xander isn't fairing much better, even with his soldier mentality. Oz is stoic, as ever, but…we can all tell he cares. How are you, dear," he sat down at her side as he asked her this.

"…I haven't known her that long," she stated, not even bothering to conceal her tears, "I haven't even known her a week and she's already at death's door. I just feel…like…everyone I try to care for…it isn't enough."

"NO," he said, sternly, and he got up and came in front of her, both his hands on her shoulder, his eyes connecting evenly with her own, "Faith, listen to me. No matter what, do not think that. You are a brave, wonderful girl, Faith. Don't ever think differently."

"But…everyone around me," her tears were flowing freely now.

"Lozen hasn't," she looked up at that, "Xander told me about her. She sounds like a very remarkable woman. I should like to meet her, one day. Faith, what do you think she would say right now, seeing you like this?"

She didn't even have to think about it.

"She'd be disappointed," Faith answered, "She'd be sad to see me blaming myself, when I was powerless to help. That's just the point, G. I shouldn't have been powerless. I should have-"

"When Angel first came to us, I should have forbade Buffy from seeing him," Giles growled out, "When Xander broke up with Cordelia on Valentines, he should never have used a love spell to try and get back at her. When Willow felt something wrong about Xander's car, she should have come to us with the feeling, we could have done something before Xander and Cordelia got possessed. When Oz realized he was a werewolf, he should have told us. When Amy began taking lessons from Rack, we should have known and helped her instead of leaving her alone to deal.

"We each make mistakes, Faith and, as far as I'm concerned, you reacted as best as your situation had allowed. And, you've bought Amy enough time for us to find a way to cure her, with your Slayer blood. You've done all you can, for now. That's as much as any of us can expect, or you, for that matter."

Faith smiled gratefully at the Watcher. Two good people in the world, three if she counted X, even more if she included the Scoobies. Could this all be possible?

╟℣╢

Willow reread the inscription twice, just to make sure that she got it right. What she was about to do was more powerful than any spell she had done before, including the spell to give Angel back his soul. She knew that she was doing something that Giles would very strongly go against but, she had to do it. Amy was about to die, and she was going to do something to help her before it happened. It was their last hope, especially when the blood of the Slayer didn't help combat the infectious blood of the vampire.

The enjoining spell, while having is repercussions, was the only thing that could possibly save Amy. She had begun researching ways to find a way to decimate the spirit of the vampire, or to force it into submission. She believed that she had found a way but, it was only done with four spirits, not three. Amy's spirit and her magic were totally separate entities, both acting with the need of the other, but both could be disconnected without much effort. Just like how one's magic is bound.

The Slayer essence that was running through her veins was not only separate, but foreign, too. While not being an instinct or force within the body entirely, there was still a very small portion of the Slayer essence within the witch's body. Small when compared to the witch, but grand when compared to the vampire. The Slayer essence would have already bled out of her systems, had it not been for the parasitic presence.

The vampire itself was nothing more than a poison, a demonic poison, and the Slayer was like the antitoxin designed to deal with it. The vampiric essence spread throughout the human body, wiping out its defenses and creating a breach between the body and the soul. The soul, sensing an attack, retreats to the Ether, the holding place for most souls. This allows the vampire demon the ability to take up shop inside its essence.

Amy's original spirit, the Witch essence, the Vampire spirit, and the Slayer essence. She was going to combine them all together. It was the only way to help her, the only way that she could find. The Slayer and Vampire spirit would have to be separated, somewhat, but…that was no problem.

She set down all her supplies and began.

"The power of the Slayer," she withdrew the card marked 'Spiritus,' for the Slayer essence was designed to be more of a spirit, more of an instinct…she would have placed it in the mind if it weren't for the relative fact that the Slayer was very…violent, "The heart of the Witch," she had chosen to have this because the heart was where many magics came from, though the power was stored as essence, it could exist in the heart, where everything is connected, "The mind of the Amy Madison," this way, Amy would still be in control of everything, "And the body the Vampire," she had had no other choice, she didn't want the demon to have a chance at Amy's soul, nor did she want the demon in control of her mind, or her heart so…she'd give it the part of the ensemble with the least influence…the body.

Spiritus with an orange hue.

Sophus with a semi-white glow.

Animus with a gray tint.

Manus with a crimson tone.

"I invoke thee," she chanted, overcoming the waves of power as they hit her, "Grant her thy primal strength and influence, and the domain, which is rightfully hers. Accept her in the power that she possesses. Make yourselves heart and mind and spirit join within her. Let the hand encompass you and do her will, and hers alone. I enjoin that you may inhabit the vessel-the hand…daughter of Hecate, guardian of the brethren of the magics.

"I implore, grant her what belongs to her, as well as your primal strength and influence. Admit and deliver yourselves to the vessel. Deliver yourselves…now!"

She gasped as she felt the throng of power that had been steadily growing within the room…simply dissipate. Wasting no time, the young witch jumped up off the library floor and ran out the door, hoping against hope that she had been successful.

╟℣╢

The change within Amy was almost unnoticeable, even as the Slayer twisted and formed itself into the spirit of the girl, and the witchcraft plagued her heart, and the vampirism began to alter her body. Unnoticeable, that is, if you weren't a Slayer. The second she began to change, Faith felt it. She saw it.

All she saw, however, was the Slayer essence receding and the vampire demon coming forward, thus leading to her ultimately best decision.

"She's gone," she whispered into Giles's arms, "The vampire's won."

Hating herself, but knowing that it was the right thing, Faith reached into her pack and withdrew a stake, knowing that it would only be a matter of time before her heart dropped. She had done this before, in the hospital. One of the trauma patients had flat lined and she had known him to be a fledgling in coming so, she had staked him. He had taken a moment but, he had dusted all the same. She hoped that this would be quick and painless for her friend.

But, she ended up waiting for ten minutes, and she still had not died. That was odd, considering how close to death she had been. Now, it appeared as though her heart rate was climbing, reaching up to normal quickly and only going about ten beats above. She stayed where she was, unwilling to stake her friend until she died. Then, she could be certain.

"Faith," she heard G call for her, "Are you sure? S-shouldn't she be dead by now, if the vampire had won?"

She nodded. She was just as confused as he was. Then, the door exploded, revealing a flustered looking redhead. Willow paused, however, upon seeing Faith and her stake.

"Don't stake her," Willow pleaded.

"But, Faith says the vampire's overtaken her body," Giles intervened, "Willow, what-"

"I know what it looks like," Willow stampeded over him, "But, it's not. See, I did a spell, the enjoining spell, and combined the Slayer, Vampire, Witchiness, and Amy-ness. The vamp's got the body, the Slayer has the spirit, the witch has the heart, and Amy has the mind."

Giles stared at the witch and clucked his tongue in a frivolously British manner before speaking.

"Why did you not inform me of this, Willow," the Watcher asked in a tone that held deep concern.

"Because, I knew you would've trounced the idea," Willow screeched, "I know I've done wrong, but-"

"No," he held up a hand to silence her, "No, in fact, what you have done was right, all of it…save not informing me. The enjoining spell is very dangerous, Willow, and is not to be preformed without the aid of a practiced magic user. However, you did do the right thing. The spell would have had the desired effects, allowing Amy the ability to live. The problem is that this spell has never been preformed on a single human being. How did you recite the incantations?"

She said it back to him, word for word.

"I just filled it in where I thought it should be," Willow stated, worried, "What does this mean, Giles?"

"…I'm not sure."

╟℣╢

Xander was sat beside his girlfriend, Cordelia, and was reading the _Cosmo_ along with her. He had stopped by to spend some time while they waited for Amy, so he had told her what was going on. She had been saddened by the news so, being the girl she was, she turned to a magazine and her boyfriend for solace. He was comfortable in his chair, holding her hand, and pretending that he was reading the article concerning how women could figure out the size of a man's lower extremity by looking at their feet. It made no sense whatsoever…hopefully.

"Xander," he looked up as he heard a voice call for him and found that it was Oz.

"Hey, Wolfman," his words caused a flinch, which was enough to force him to stop, "…What's up?"

"Can we talk," Oz asked politely.

He nodded in response and turned to Cordelia.

"Go," she told him, still reading the article, "But, find out how Amy's doing for me?"

"Of course." He bent down and kissed her forehead, then turned and followed Oz out into the hallway.

"She hasn't changed," Oz quickly answered the unspoken question, "…What do you know about wolves?"

"…I did a little bit of research into werewolves," Xander stated, "Mostly, it was just about how the moon affects the mind. Oz, I don't know what I can tell you that you don't already know. The most I can say is that…wait…you were enraged when you did that, right?"

Oz nodded.

"In a zone?"

Again, he nodded.

"This might be farfetched but, maybe when you got that pissed off, it set you into a rage, one fueled by both you and the wolf. I think…maybe the wolf sees Willow as his mate just as much as you see her as your girlfriend. Now, if it happens again and Willow's not involved in any way, then my theory's gone to Hell."

Oz paused for a moment to think…and nodded in agreement.

"Might be," he answered, "I'll have to think on it."

"Guys," they both looked up to see Willow coming down the hall, her face lit up in a grin, "Amy's getting better."

"She awake yet," Xander asked her as she leapt into Oz's arms.

"Not yet," she answered, her smile dwindling slightly.

"She will, though," Oz said, confidence radiating off his words.

Xander nodded. Nothing was happening to one of his own.

╟℣╢

Consciousness…it ordinarily comes slowly. It involves struggling through the dark to the light. Blinking is necessary, most often. For a few moments, grogginess is simply a fact of things. It takes most people a full five minutes to wake up.

For Amy Madison, with the spirit of a Slayer, the heart of a witch, and the body (including general looks and reactions) of a vampire, it happened within two seconds.

She sat up quickly, her body not even getting lightheaded as she quickly righted herself. The first sight her mind registered was that of a smiling Faith.

"Mornin', Aims," Faith greeted her friend and took her hand, "How you feeling?"

"Like I got ran over by ten eighteen-wheelers," she muttered and turned her head towards the open window, allowing the light of the rising sun the ability to shine in.

She smiled as she looked out upon the light.

"Hey, look who's up," she turned her head to see Willow, Xander, Giles, and Oz, all gathered in her room, smiling.

She felt good, knowing that all her friends were there. It made her feel safe.


	16. Dhampir

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

╟℣╢

Amy stood up slowly and walked over to the nearby table in her house. It had been about a week since she had been freed from the hospital so, she was almost completely used to moving on her own again. The problem was that she had to adjust the way she moved. If she just got up, with her added strength and whatnot, she could end up going through a wall.

So far, they had determined that her own strength was about 75 percent of that of a Slayer, which was fairly good. Her magic, now connected directly to her being, no longer capturing it through spells and words, was increasing every day. She had no problem with any of these factors. They were just…difficult to function with, at least for the time being. The main factor that she was having trouble with was her body.

For a while now, she had been feeling this odd toothache inside two of her teeth. Fearing the worse, she had gone to Giles to check and see what the problem was. He had said that due to her now vampiric body, she may have vampire-like qualities, such as extended teeth. Her skin was already pale as ice, so, that didn't matter. Her main deal was that toothache. Fortunately, though, no cravings for blood. Yet.

She didn't want to think about what would happen if she ever felt the need for blood. She absolutely refused to drink it and let go of one of the few things that still made her human. She often found herself awake in the middle of the night, wishing that none of this had happened. Wishes didn't come true, though. Not often. What she really wanted was to find out the extent of all her new gifts. That was sort of the purpose in tonight's patrol. The group was going off together, mostly, as one whole, with the intention of testing out their limits. The method was simple: let each person fight off whatever comes in succession.

The order:

Amy…First Dhampir Half-vampire, Half-human(technically, one-fourth a vamp, another fourth a Slayer, another a witch, and another just herself) in existence

Faith…Slayer

Oz…Werewolf (after his episode last time, they wanted to see what the exact specifications of his change were)

Xander…Hyena/Soldier

Giles would not be joining them, for the reasons of recovery. Willow would not be there for a whole other purpose. Jonathan and Andrew, the two stupid geniuses who found the glove, had come to them a few days after Amy woke up and asked if they could help in any way. Jonathan, while nowhere near as powerful as Willow or Amy, had tampered with magic. Willow had decided to help him out, if only to prevent a disaster somewhere along the line. Andrew, on the other hand, was an adept hacker and technician, almost as good as Willow. So, the trio were working together to design some kind of central computer system that would keep watch on the library, mansion, and bomb shelter, that way if anything went missing or it was attacked, they'd know exactly what happened. Plus, it would be better to have an actual computer relay instead of just radios.

This also served another purpose. While Willow was helping them, Oz would be out on the prowl, which would give the group the chance to see if Xander's theory was correct. If it was, then they would potentially have a powerful ally on their hands. If it wasn't, then they could potentially have a very big problem on their hands.

Amy was happy, though. It would be the last day she spent with her friend before she returned to Denver, with her guardian, Lozen. Amy was tempted to ask Giles if she could go with Faith. Her dad was already aching for some vacation time with his secretary so, she doubted he would mind. Plus, she would love to learn what Lozen had to teach her. She decided that she would bring it up the next time she saw them together.

╟℣╢

"I totally get it now," Andrew said in awe, "And here I am, using the same old algorithm that the Jawas would have found idiotic."

Willow stared over at the nerd, somewhat regretting her decision to teach him new hacking methods. Sighing, the witch turned toward her other pupil, Jonathan. He was working on a protection spell for the whole group, so that they could have a little bit of mystical cover constantly. It was a good idea, one which she was certain Giles would approve.

Giles, impressed with her ability to find a way to help Amy without his aid, had done the exact opposite of what she had expected, what with her not telling him…he had told her that she could do whatever she felt was necessary for the group while she taught Jonathan and Andrew the ropes. It was a big responsibility, especially with the two nerds who had plotted to become superheroes. It was difficult bringing them from the comic book world to the real one.

"Willow," she turned her attention back to Andrew, who was staring at the computer, "I've found a map of Sunnydale…and when I say Sunnydale, I mean absolutely every bit of it. There are cave routes, underground areas, even a few old structures buried in the earthquake in the fifties or sixties."

"Let me see," she ordered the nerd.

He moved aside and the Wicca leaned in to see the map. It was, indeed, a complete schematic of the Sunnydale boundaries. Every single bit, including a few cave systems (the Master's and the cave system that Acathla was found in, for examples) that the general public couldn't possibly be aware of. The entrances, such as the one Acathla was found at, perhaps, but, not the entire cave structure.

"Andrew," she said, wearily, "Where did you find this?"

He, instead of answering, pull up the actual site address.

"Wolfram and Hart," she read aloud, "…A law firm has this entire town on file?"

"Shit," Andrew shouted in surprise as he pushed her aside, "I'm getting flagged. They're getting on me too fast! I can't…Willow!"

The redhead reacted quickly and pulled every plug she could out of the system, hoping to stop whoever it was that had detected them. It wouldn't help…they already knew what information that they had taken, and it wouldn't be much of a leap to guess that the firm would figure that they were either in or heading for Sunnydale.

"…Did you save it," she asked the nerd.

He nodded.

"…Jonathan," she turned her attention to the practitioner, who looked up immediately, "Top priority. Forget the protection spell. Send Amy a signal and tell her to get over here. We need her."

"For what," he asked as he grabbed the nearby radio.

She didn't answer.

╟℣╢

Ten minutes earlier:

Amy watched from above as the group of vampires sloppily made their way towards the street. They were noisy, unconcerned in nearly every way there was. The seven of them had nothing better to do than to simply walk around and look for unsuspecting victims. Drunk on their own power…completely unaware of their surroundings…perfect prey.

She felt her spirit and her body rejoice at the thrill of the kill, the hunt, and smiled. As she smiled, however, she felt a sharp sting against her lips and gently touched them. They were bleeding on both sides. She searched around a little bit more and found the object that had cut her…her own teeth had extended to the point of razors, down a full inch before stopping on the outside of her mouth. She hadn't even felt it happen.

Pushing aside these thoughts, she sent a signal down below. The signal to start countdown. The second she got the signal (the shaking bush, which also served to put the vampires on guard, giving them a fairer advantage), she leapt down from her limb and fell gracefully to the ground, in the center of all seven vampires. They all turned in rapid succession upon hearing her and stood there, confused.

Why did she have fangs? What was she?

"…What are you," a skinhead vampire questioned.

She stood up straight, allowing her pure crimson leather outfit the room to stretch and reveal the fullness of her body, instantly drawing all their attention. Boys were too easy.

"Call me Mistress Pain," she said with a grin.

Of course, that only served to increase their interest in her.

"Well, Mistress," one of the vamps, a short guy with dreadlocks, came forward with a grin that indicated exactly what was on his mind, "Have we been bad?"

"Do we need a spanking," another one asked.

She refused to blanch at their attempts to woo her…or get her to screw them. It was absolutely disgusting…and their method simply sucked! Sighing, she decided to throw the playful banter away and get to the kicking of the ass.

"Desperately," she muttered.

She drew out some of her energy and created a small bolt of fire, which she then thrust out towards the three vampires in front of her. The fire scorched through two of them before they could react, dusting them off, while the third managed to dodge the blast and save his existence. This was enough to wake the four remaining vamps up.

They began to launch a series of kicks and thrusts at her but, she simply used her heart to enchant them, making their movements much slower in reality than they appeared to themselves. They slowed down quickly, allowing her enough time to plan out a quick strategy. She couldn't afford to use magic too much, or often. It wore on her heart. Enough magic done in a short period of time could end up giving her a heart attack. So, she reached into her pack and drew out a bottle of holy water.

Moving quickly, already feeling the wear and tear that the heart (unaccustomed to its new task) brought her, she doused the vampire's bodies in the water. She settled back down into place and let go of her spell, sighing gratefully for the release from her pain.

"AHHH!"

The vampires each collapsed to the ground in pain as the holy water began to erode their skin. She didn't give them much time to enjoy their pain before she slammed her stake home into two of their bodies. The other three managed to gain control of themselves before she could destroy them, and stood their ground, bracing themselves for the inevitable.

As a Dhampir, she held a bodily connection to the vampiric spirit. For some reason, all vampires were able to detect their own kind. They shared a mental connection of some sorts, one which they used in the blooding process to create suitable children. The chain-of-command…Master and flunky. She held within her being the residency of a vampire and, as such, she was capable of many things. One of which happened to be the ability to slip past the mental barriers that the vampires held to keep essences out of their being, to seal up the hole the demon created as it invaded their body.

She did not even realize as she did so but, once she did, she knew it was so. Her body seemed to flux and glow a dark hue for a moment, then…she disappeared…into the vampires themselves. In reality, she didn't even realize what had happened. Not till she found herself inside a black space with three creatures with grayish-green skin and bone struts all along their faces. Other than the color and the struts, they appeared to have the same faces as vampires did. She did not even contemplate the fact that she, herself, held a similar appearance as she launched her assault.

On the outside, after Amy's disappearance, all three vampires seemed to freeze in their spots, not moving an inch. Except for the fact that they reverted to their human masks, for no apparent reason. The trio came from their hiding places and began to examine the vamps, not truly understanding what was happening. Then, one of the vampires seemed to shed a layer of dust off his body, then collapse into nothing more than a corpse. The same occurred with the other two shortly thereafter…and, along with the corpses falling to the ground, a dark hue appeared in the area. A moment later, the hue took on the shape of Amy.

As she came out of her state of astral invasion, she gasped and took in a deep breath.

"…What the Hell happened?"

╟℣╢

Willow watched with interest as the group came into the shelter. They had radioed what had happened and, to say that her interests were peaked would be like saying Giles was a dumbass. Simply didn't do it justice. Since she had heard the message, she had begun searching all their databases, along with Andrew searching the Internet…needless to say, they hadn't come up with anything.

She hated telling them that but, they hadn't been overly surprised. But, she knew what would brighten their moods.

"Guys," she got their attention, "Andrew found a map of Sunnydale on the Net and, when I say a map, I mean a map of the entire town, including tunnels, cave systems, hidden structures, absolutely everything."

For a moment, the significance of her statement didn't meet their brains. That changed after that moment.

"…My God," Xander muttered, followed directly by Faith, "…We can use it to track every vampire or demon in the city limits."

"Purge the Hellmouth," Oz said.

"Is it…even possible," Amy asked.

None of them knew.


	17. Declaration of War

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

_The only limit to our realization of tomorrow will be our doubts of today._

_- Franklin D. Roosevelt (FDR)_

╟℣╢

Lozen listened intently as Faith told her of the events that had occurred recently on the Hellmouth. A map of the entire town, from cave formations to building blueprints, all in the possession of a law firm. Did this mean that they had a new enemy? Aside from that, it meant that they had a key advantage in the war now. The map itself was huge, and could span over the entire wall of their bomb shelter. The basis of the map, and the way they were thinking of utilizing it, was that the map could serve as a directory for the entire town. They could use the map to center in a spell designed to search out demonic essences, which included vampires, demons, and other mystical beings.

In short, they could determine exactly where every single enemy was in town at every single point in the day. It would provide them with a perfect opportunity to destroy them all and, perhaps, purge the Hellmouth of its influences. The question was…would it make a difference? Demons were spawned every minute of the day and most of them would come to the Hellmouth, eventually.

…That was it.

"Faith," she spoke to her daughter, "Where are you staying right now?"

"With Mr. Giles," she answered.

"…That girl, Amy, she has a house all to herself right now, doesn't she?"

"…Yes," Faith responded.

"Ask her if it would be alright if she had a few guests for a while."

"You mean, you're…" her voice sounded so very hopeful.

"I'm coming to Sunnydale, Faith," she answered with a grin.

╟℣╢

The City of Angels:

Lindsey groaned in pain as he sat down. Things were not looking good for the young lawyer. For one, Manners was pissed off at him for going against orders and trying to bring the Slayer over to their side. He did, however, admit that she would make a great asset but, the Partners wanted her dead. It was the only thing to do. Lindsey had, of course, asked Holland to try and do something about their viewpoint or, to at least find out why they wanted her dead.

The next day, Manners had came to him with several large files and told him to start filtering through them. All he had found were a bunch of former prophecies about an ensouled vampire (Angel, most likely, but he was dead) but, there was an interesting one involving the Slayer and the First. It spoke of how she would die twice and come back twice, the first time creating a split in the Slayer line, while the second would create an imbalance that would allow the First enough room to come through the boundary that held her (that boundary was courtesy of the Senior Partners). The result would be either the end of the Slayer line or the beginning of a new era, one that would create a great imbalance between good and evil. The Slayers would all be activated, giving the First a constant foothold into this world. The correction would have been the spawning of a new race of demons, one stronger than any the world would have ever seen. They would have come about a year later, with the destruction of the Circle of the Black Thorne. That brief stopping of the Senior Partners would have given the demons (who were being held in a Hell dimension by the Senior Partners, so that they wouldn't interfere with their plans on Earth) enough of a gap to escape and make their way into the world. The result: the Final Apocalypse, where the demons would have decimated the Watcher's Council, the Champions and the Powers That Be. The PTB would have lost their foothold in their reality and would have been forced to either abandon Earth or sacrifice every other dimension for Earth. The choice was obvious but, the final result would have been worst for all involved. The demons would have released the Old Ones, who would then make their way to the Senior Partners and decimate them. In other words, the world would have gone back to what it had been before the demons had been kicked out.

This had happened several million times, apparently, always with the same end result. The world was in a vicious cycle, one that few knew of or could do anything about. Not even the Senior Partners were aware, for they never could do anything about it. Well, now Lindsey knew about it and could do something about it. He was not the hero, per se, not even to himself. All he wanted was to ensure that his place on Earth remained unchanged and, from the looks of things, he would not remain on Earth much longer. So, he did the only thing he could.

He had destroyed the firm's security network, just for a moment, and someone had found what he wanted them to find. That someone, fortunately, ended up being the exact same someone he wanted to know. Now, it was only a matter of time. The cycle would end…and the final battle, the battle meant toturn the world into paradise for either good or evil, would begin.

He planned on being on the winning team.

╟℣╢

Sunnydale, California…the Hellmouth:

The group was gathered in the bomb shelter two days later. Lozen, the Apache warrior, was present, having arrived the day before. They were discussing what to do now that they potentially had this powerful weapon at their disposal.

"I say we use it," Xander spoke up, "We have a map that displays exactly where every single spot of land, every single cave, every single depression there is, and the means to detect where every demon is. We can't ignore this."

"…I agree," Giles said gravely, "Though I do not know what it would mean for the Earth, I do believe that this is too great to ignore. This would tip the scales of the war greatly in our favor."

"Therein lies the problem," Lozen stated, "What if this is exactly what is wanted? What if our assault against the demons of the Hellmouth brought a new, more deadly enemy to the fore, one that we cannot fight?"

"Or we wait for one to strike out against us while our heads are in the sand," Oz philosophized.

"They all make good points, Giles," Willow said, for good measure.

"Besides, who's to say that this map is completely right, anyway," Cordelia, who was finally free from the hospital, said in her typical fashion, "I mean, those caves could just be where someone dug a little, for God's sake."

"You're saying that we should check our source before we use it," Giles asked.

She nodded.

"Makes sense," Faith said, "We may have this great map now, but, what if it's a dud? I'd hate to go into a fight with bullcrap for info."

"SNAFU," Xander said with a grin, "That's how we do it most of the time."

"Situation Normal, All Fucked Up," Lozen said with a grin.

"Exactly," the Eagle said, "Whatever source of information you have, there is always the possibility that it's wrong. We've been lucky in that so far, but, we won't always be. I think that Cordy's right, we should check the map before we even think about using it. Whether or not it's some kind of trap set up for us isn't a priority right now. If it is, we probably can't do anything about it for now. If it isn't, more power to us. We need to worry about what we can do now, and deal with what can be done…later."

"Fine," Amy said as she stood up, "Faith, why don't you and me head out and see about one of these caves?"

"Sure," Faith said as she, too, stood up and grabbed a radio, "You guys wanna come?"

Xander and Oz shook their heads, knowing that they had to work out Oz's wolf deal. Willow echoed them, along with Cordy, they had to help Andrew and Jonathan with their security system setup till Cordy was back at a hundred. Giles was, of course, base point in the library. Lozen, meanwhile, nodded her head excitedly.

"I'll come," she said with a grin, "I want to meet my daughter's new best friend."

Amy blushed slightly. She'd never had a best friend before.

╟℣╢

"Where are we going," Amy asked as she and Faith followed Lozen.

They had checked out one of the questionable cave formations in the area and had found it, along with a flesh-eating demon that had been easily taken care of thanks to Lozen and her arrows. Now, she was leading them towards the borders of the Hellmouth.

"We are going a very long way," Lozen stated with a small grin, "Do you know why we are going out here, Miss Madison?"

She shook her head.

"Many Indian tribes held vision quests," she said to them, "I have never been on one before, though I have had them, at times."

"So, we're going on one," Faith asked, "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because, I felt that you might appreciate a bit of surprise in your life," Lozen said, her grin multiplying in magnitude, "Actually, I didn't tell you because I was afraid that your vampiric body would react poorly to the vision, whatever it may be. You may be in control of your mind but, the vampire instincts are heavily intoned within your movements. Your natural reactions are different than what they used to be and, in my experience, vampires tend to dislike visions, period. I want you to experience a vision, most of all."

"Is that why we didn't eat this morning," Amy asked; Lozen had ushered them out of her own house very quickly, and now she knew why.

"Yes," she answered honestly, "We will wonder the wilderness for a while, days perhaps, till we all have our visions. With them, I hope to solve the problems that we have been confronted with."

"Amy's Dhampir-ness," Faith recited, "Oz's wolfiness, and whether or not we use the map."

"Not Oz," Lozen stated, "Oz must find his own path there. The questions we are here to address are 'where do we go from here?' and 'why did Amy recede to her purest form?'"

"Wait," Amy asked, confused, "Purest form?"

"Yes," the Apache said, "You entered the spiritual realm of the vampire, where their demonic essences are in constant connection and control. Your, or rather, your body's purest form joined with them."

"…Huh," Faith asked, even more confused.

"Well, a layer of dust came off of them, right," Faith nodded, "And Amy remembers fighting them all and killing all three demons, right," the Dhampir nodded, "So, you entered their own realm and destroyed them, leaving their corpses behind. We need to determine why it happened. Thus, the quest."

With that, Lozen picked up her pace, forcing the two to jog in order to keep up.

╟℣╢

Xander watched carefully as Oz fought off the vampires. He was doing well, considering his problems. Slowly, Xander came to believe that the werewolf was, in fact, only going to come out if Willow was threatened. Maybe the Queen and her magic had some residual effects on his wolf. If so, then they would either have to find a way to work around it or to get rid of it.

As the last vamp turned to dust, Oz turned away and slowly walked back to Xander. His stoic face now held a decidedly grim expression.

"I felt something," Oz stated, "The wolf…it wanted out."

Xander nodded, taking the information and stowing it away. So, all they knew was that his wolf could affect him during times of stress. Suddenly, a new possibility presented itself to the Eagle.

"You've been working out with Giles pretty routinely, right," Oz nodded, wondering where he was going with this, "You've been getting more in touch with your…violent side?"

The werewolf nodded, even as he saw what Xander was suggesting.

"You think that might be giving the wolf a bit more influence," he asked.

"A wolf is a violent creature by nature," Xander said, "Maybe by training more, you've accessed a part of both yourself and the wolf that was previously unknown because you hadn't trained. This might end up being more of a blessing than a curse."

Oz did nothing, and he knew that the wolf was almost completely unconvinced. Xander decided to change the topic.

"So, what do you think we should do about the map," he asked.

Oz stood there, silent, then said, "I think we should use it. No sense in just abandoning something that can help us a lot. Especially since we didn't destroy the glove."

Xander nodded. When they had told him about that, he had been disturbed but…he had seen the sense behind it. Just like this with the map.

╟℣╢

Three days later…

Faith collapsed to the ground. She was a Slayer but, she couldn't handle the tough, desert terrain without food or water. Her body needed that more than most people so, it wasn't much of a surprise when she fell first.

She found herself in a beautiful lake, surrounded by brilliant woods. She was naked, her body glistening in the sun as she swam. She was enjoying herself, enjoying the peace and the calm. As she swam, however, she could hear the sounds of fighting all around her, in the woods. She swam on, ignoring them, even as someone called out to her for help. Before long, however, she felt her body slow down as it waded through something thicker than water. She turned her head to see…

She was swimming in blood.

╟℣╢

Four hours later:

Amy fell to the ground as her vision began to overcome her senses.

She was in a cave, surrounded by vampires. She automatically assumed a fighting stance, intending on fighting them off. Instead, the vampires merely stood and waited. She lashed out and tried to hit them but, they simply batted her away. She tried to use her magic but, she could not access it. She ran out again to try and attack, only to have them all stand aside. She fell to the dirty ground and rolled to her side, gasping for breath as she did so. Slowly, she came back to her feet, fully expecting an attack of some kind. Nothing came. She turned around again, only to find all the vampires gone. In place of them stood…Jenny Calendar, her old computer teacher.

"Poor Amy," she said as she moved over to her and gently brushed her hair, "You'll never amount to anything more than a tool."

"That's not true," Amy said, and she really believed it, "I have friends. I help people."

Jenny sighed and turned away. When she turned back, her face was battered, her neck at an odd angle.

"All witches go to Hell, Amy," she shouted out at her, "Stop…while you still have a chance!"

Amy was almost convinced…almost. Except, Miss Calendar had never once said anything derogatory to her, and never would, either. Whoever, or whatever, this was…it wasn't her.

"You're not her," Amy shouted as she sent a fist towards her, only to have it go straight through, "You'll never be her. Jenny was a good soul, a good person!"

"You barely even knew her," Jenny stated.

"No, I didn't know her," Amy said, "But Giles and Willow did, and they loved her! They told me all about her, and you're not her!"

She changed shape into a villainous looking beast with two horns and great, red eyes. The beast roared out in fury before disappearing into nothing.

╟℣╢

Three hours later:

Lozen collapsed in the desert, tired. Faith and Amy were beside her, just as she had been when they had had their visions. Now, it was her turn.

She found herself to be…in a basement. In the center of the room sat a great seal. There was blood all over it.

The scene changed again to an office in the blistering heat. She looked around quickly, her eyes first noticing a bunch of monsters in suits. One monster, however, took precedence over all the others…for he was in the company of a beautiful redheaded woman in black.

The final scene was one that electrified her systems. She and the group were all gathered in a great hall, with an army of demons around them. They were fighting…they were winning.

╟℣╢

Lozen shook her head as she came up and accepted the water from Amy greatly. After a drink, she sighed and reached along her belt to pull out their radio to let Mr. Giles, who had been following them via the signal, know that they were done.

╟℣╢

The next day, the entire group was gathered in the library. They were discussing whether or not to use the map, of course. The opinions were fairly predictable: Xander was all for a preemptive strike, Willow was more conservative, Cordelia didn't want to get her nails dirty, while Oz openly expressed his longing to rid the town of what demon inhabitance they could, Giles felt moderation came into place, Faith was a Slayer (duh!), Amy hated vamps after what happened to her, and Jonathan and Andrew shied away from any violence.

The only opinion, and one of the most important ones, that had yet to be heard…was Lozen.

The Apache warrior stood up to her full height and walked to the head of the table and put both her hands on the table and leaned forward, causing Xander to lean forward a little bit to get a better view and to be smacked by Cordy once she noticed.

"Thank you," Lozen smiled at Cordelia, "…On our vision quests, Faith ended up swimming in blood because she ignored the call to arms," Faith looked down, embarrassed that even her visionary self would dare do that, "Amy was attacked by vampires and verbally assaulted by some kind of demon," Amy nodded in agreement to the summary, "And I was in this school's basement with a seal covered in blood, then in an office with a redheaded girl dressed in black, and, finally, in a hall with all of you, fighting demons and slaughtering them. When all these visions are combined, they lead me to believe that…ignoring the tool we have right now would cost us much more in the long run than it could cost us to use it now."

"All those in favor of using the damn thing," Xander asked as he raised his own hand.

╟℣╢

The City of Angels:

Lindsey sighed as he closed his files and put them away. He was tired after all the research he had done into the final apocalypse, research that no one had done before, apparently. Now, the Senior Partners were finally going to get their shot at ruling the world after the apocalypse. They would probably make him king of several continents because of this.

He looked up suddenly as he heard something that sounded extremely familiar to him.

"You sneaky bastard," Lindsey turned his head to see a loaded revolver pointed directly at his forehead.

The two stayed that way for a moment until, finally, the gunner pushed the hammer back and lowered the weapon towards the ground. Lindsey let out a breath of relief and motioned for his guest to take a seat.

"How are you doing," the lawyer asked as he began to get out two glasses and some brandy.

"Alright," Lindsey scowled as feet were placed upon his desk but, let it go, knowing that his guest was mostly responsible for all that he had done.

"Why am I a sneaky bastard," Lindsey questioned as he put his guest's glass on the table, near the foot.

"I saw what you did to the Slayer…I must admit, even I would not have used such underhanded methods…I applaud you, sir."

"I would have thought you'd be mad that I was trying to recruit her to the cause," Lindsey said as he took a drink.

"In fact, I welcome it," the empty glass was placed back on Lindsey's desk and the feet went back to the floor, "It makes my vengeance all the more…liberating. If she were working for evil, my killing her would be even more morally justified. Not that I give a damn, I just wanna kill her."

"Mind my asking why," Lindsey questioned, wondering why this person held such a vendetta against the Slayer.

"No one will know," Lindsey stood up as his guest did, knowing that if he didn't, the odds were that he'd end up with a bullet in his chest if he didn't show some respect, "Not till I have her right where I want her. Then, the last thing she sees will be the last thing I saw before I died."

Lindsey stood there, confused and alit with questions as the vengeance seeker left his office.


	18. Adversaries

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

_Beware the wrath of a patient adversary._

_John C. Calhoun_

╟℣╢

For a week after the spell was done, violence was all that the small group knew. Every night, they would gather inside the bomb shelter and gather up supplies and artillery (RPGs, M-16s with grenade launcher, AR-15s, Molotov Cocktails, magic fireballs, the Glove, etc.) and launch as many assaults against the demons as they could before two o'clock. Andrew would stay inside the shelter, using the database to let them know if they encountered any peaceful demons (they were soldiers, and soldiers do not kill bystanders or friendlies if they can help it) while Giles and Cordelia (she wanted to get back in the game but, Giles had made it clear that she would not be in until he had deemed her fit for duty) stayed in the library as the reconvening point.

Word was spreading from the Hellmouth that, if you were a killer demon or a vampire, you wanted to stay away. A great purging was occurring there. It seemed as though they knew exactly where and when to strike, and how to fight.

The purging was being called 'The Wrath of the Eagle.'

╟℣╢

Xander looked over at his teammate, Lozen, and sighed. For a full week, they had been fighting as many battles as they could and it was beginning to wear him out. But, that didn't matter. To him, this was just a mission. The objective: destroy the evil demons and vampires. He and Lozen provided covering fire (his machine guns were not best for up-close fighting and neither were Lozen's arrows) while Willow and Amy would provide bombing runs (magic and cocktails) until they were either tired or out, then join the fighting down below. The main competitors down below were Faith, Oz, and Jonathan (he would always go in first and blast the shit outta them with the glove, then hang in the background till he was needed). It was Saturday now, and they had all decided to take Sunday off, knowing that most of them needed at least one night in order to do some things for themselves.

Statistically: around forty-five percent of the demonic population was dead. They were doing the only thing they knew too when encountered with such adversity: banding together in dank spots, hoping that they could easily defend them. But, they weren't counting on tunneling or the two witches and their ability to float (spells rock). Within a month, the odds were that nearly every vampire and demon on the Hellmouth would be running with their tails in between their legs…if they weren't already dead.

He looked up as he got the signal: a blast of lightning rolling through the crowd of demons and vampires (old feuds died in the face of death), instantly cutting their numbers down by a third, at least. Xander and Lozen instantly began to open fire, his incendiary rounds blasting them down in fire and her blessed arrows flying into any soft spot she could find, while Amy and Willow threw down bolts and cocktails as fast as they could. The strategy was simple…don't get face-to-face if you can help it. Needless to say, Faith didn't like that method but, she saw the logistics of it. The few vampires or demons that broke through the line were instantly met with either lightning, a Slayer, or a werewolf. Most of those that did break through were agitated so, they held no true strategy other than getting out of the bloodbath. They were easy to pick off.

Xander groaned as he ran out and ejected his clip from the slot and plugged in another within two seconds, then recommenced his shooting only to find that there was nothing left to shoot.

"Clear up," Xander shouted out.

Amy and Willow went down to the ground, daggers at the ready, and helped as Oz, Faith, and Jonathan began to go through the bodies, seeing if any were playing possum as Xander and Lozen covered them.

"Clear down," Faith shouted and the two shooters quickly got up from their ledge and went down to ground level.

"How many do you reckon we got," Faith asked her mentor.

"No less than forty, I'd imagine," Lozen said with a smile, "Andrew didn't give us an exact count."

"Man, if every fight's going to be like that, I'm going to get bored real fast," Faith groaned out.

"Not me," Willow said as she leaned onto Oz, "My arm is cramping and I can't hear anything out my left ear."

"You get too close to Xander," Amy scolded her friend playfully, "Just back away a couple of feet and it'll be better. Promise."

"At least you're not next to Jono," Faith said with a grin as she wrapped her arm around the skittish nerd, "That glove goes POW! right in my ears when he sets it up."

"It's not my fault lightning's so loud," Jonathan defended himself, completely missing the point that Faith was proud of him.

"Jon," Xander said with a grin, "Think about this logically and, I'm sure, that you'll come to an interesting conclusion."

The geek just looked at him in confusion. Before the subject could be pursued anymore, Xander's radio began to go off. He pulled it out and hit the button.

"Yeah," he let go.

"Good evening, Angels," everyone groaned consecutively upon hearing Andrew, "I trust everything went well?"

"Andy, if you don't quit calling us your 'Angels,' I'm going to shove this thing up your ass," Faith growled into the radio.

"Faith, if you are not an angel, then what is," her eyes bugged out upon hearing that, "Anyway, how'd it go?"

"Alright," Xander said, sparing the geek from the verbal ass-kicking he was predestined to receive, but not the literal one that was in store, "What's up on the map now?"

"Well, we never did search the map near the Hellmouth because, hello, Hellmouth," the group nodded at that, "But, I decided, just to check it, you know…and…I think you guys better get back here real quick."

The group of hunters shared a collective look upon his tone and hurriedly left the cave.

╟℣╢

The group was gathered around the map as Andrew pointed towards the school.

"Something bad is below the school basement," Andrew said conspiringly as he turned away from the map, "Going off of Lozen's vision, I think it's safe to assume that-"

"It's the seal," the Apache stated with no small amount of fear.

Andrew nodded knowingly.

"It seems to be dormant right now, but," the geek shook his head and sighed theatrically, "It's only a matter of time before someone finds it and uses it."

"So, let's dig it up and find out what it is," Faith said.

"I like that plan," Xander said sarcastically, "Dig it out so that any evil can use it while we're in school."

"Xander's right," Willow agreed, "If we just dig it out and leave it there, then the odds are that something will feel it and come for it."

"Fortunately, we don't have to dig it out," Andrew said, sharing a look with Jon, "We have another option."

╟℣╢

Xander and Faith stood atop the strange device and prepared. Faith then jerked back on the lever, causing the device to press down quickly against the ground. The two then got off the thing and walked back up the stairs towards the library. When they got there, they found Willow, Jon, and Andrew all gathered around a single computer while the rest were busy getting out books and their computer data to begin researching on whatever was there.

"Got it," Jon said as he turned the laptop around to show them the image: it was a weird looking circular seal with, what appeared to be, a pentagram in the center with strange markings all around it, "Thankfully, my dad's an archaeologist and leaves his equipment in the garage all the time."

"What was that device, anyway," Giles asked as he began to look up the seal in his books while the others used computers.

"Basically, a form of sonar or radar that goes into the ground and bounces a clear picture of whatever solid it finds back," Jon said as he began to look on the Net.

"Research party," Xander clapped his hands together, ecstatic, "I'll go get the donuts and pizza."

"I'll go with," Cordelia said as she grabbed her purse, "I need coffee…bad."

"Wanna stop at the janitor's closet on the way," Xander grinned at her as the two began to walk.

"…No," she smiled at him lusciously, "Why don't we use the couch?"

╟℣╢

The City of Angels:

(Bwow!)

Pike looked over from his cake as Buffy sat in the center of the lobby, depressed. He stood up and walked over to her, already aware of what was wrong. Lily and Doyle were sitting beside each other, enjoying themselves, as Denver watched videos. She looked up upon hearing him and sighed.

"Not enjoying yourself," he asked as he sat down and she took the party favor out of her mouth.

"Why would I," Buffy asked, her voice matching her level of depression easily, "My friends hate me, I killed one of them, and an evil law firm wants me as its puppet. Why the Hell should I be happy?"

"Well, you did save a classroom filled with Catholic school children yesterday," Oliver said to her, "Aside from that, no, you're probably right. Your friends probably do hate you…but, can you blame them?"

"No," Buffy said easily, "I wish I could, I wish I could find some way to blame them, but…I know it's not entirely their fault."

"…You did kill your friend," Pike continued on, "When he insulted you and your ex and told you to go to Hell…but, do you really think that he'd say that?"

"…I don't know," 'Anne' admitted.

"Do you know your friends at all," he asked her.

"I thought I did," she answered, "Now…I can't possibly know them."

He nodded. People changed after going through what they did…she did, after all.

"…When I was in high school, back before I died," Buffy said as she began to eat her cake, "I met Angel in the dead of night. He was dark…mysterious…handsome…"

"The bad boy thing that all bubble-blondes love," she glared at him but, he didn't back down, "You were really in character for that one, weren't you?"

She sighed…but, nodded all the same.

"I knew it was wrong to love him," she admitted, "But, I didn't care. I thought with my heart and…"

"There's nothing wrong with thinking with your heart," Pike said to her, "You just gotta think with both sides of your heart."

She looked at him questioningly.

"The heart has one side for family and friends," he explained, "But, it has another for lovers and spouses. You loved your friends…but, you loved Angel more. That's understandable, and expected, but…how often do you think that love for him interfered with your decisions when it came to your friends?"

She thought about it for a second and sighed.

"You know, at first Angel shunned me," Pike looked up at that, "He said that we couldn't be a couple…and I just couldn't…wouldn't accept that. I wanted him and…I usually get what I want," she laughed mockingly, "Oh, look at me! I'm the big, bad Slayer cheerleader! God, I hadn't changed a bit. Willow called the group the Slayerettes…and that's how I saw them. Backup, support…nothing more, nothing less. Oh, sure, on occasion I'd try to be supportive for them but, most of the time…I wanted them to be supportive of me."

She sighed and ate another bit of her cake.

"…You know that guy, Xander," Pike nodded, "He fell head-over-heals in love with me but, I was too busy looking for what I couldn't have to notice. My other friend, Willow, had a major crush on him but, he was too busy looking at me to notice…well, no. That's not exactly fair. He was aware of her crush. When a demon was set loose on the Net, the demon tried to seduce her over the Net. Me and him talked about it and…well, he said that he wasn't interested in her like that. Anyway, he asked me out on a date…"

"You said no," Pike said, understanding.

"Yeah…I denied him because I wanted Angel and he knew it. Then, to repay me for what I did, he brought me back to life. And I still reject him and, worse, use him to make Angel jealous. That had to hurt."

"Oh, yeah," Pike growled as he remembered the time in Hemery when one of his former classmates used him to make her boyfriend jealous.

"…I wish I could go back in time and change everything," she muttered.

"You can't," Pike said then, rethought his statement, and said, "Well, you probably can but, I wouldn't recommend it. Odds are you'd make things worse. But, you can deal with what you have now. I mean, you have great friends here in LA that believe in what they're doing, you're on the road to recovery. That's more than a lot of my friends had…or have."

He sighed and reached into his pocket.

"I was going to give this to you tonight, but," he handed her a jewelry box, which she accepted with a small smile.

"Thank you," she said in advance.

When she opened it, however, instead of a diamond ring, show found…

"A ticket," she said, her eyes wide, "LAX to Sunnydale, tomorrow. Pike, I can't-"

"Hell you can't," Pike said to her, "Buffy, your friends might hate you right now but, do you really think that they wouldn't forgive you?"

She shook her head.

"So, they didn't forgive you for sleeping with Angel, they didn't forgive you for what you did when you got back from your dad's during the summer, and they didn't forgive you the first time you came back?"

She stared at him.

"Buffy, you are going to get on that flight if I have to drag you kicking and screaming," Pike snarled at her, "Now, go upstairs and start packing."

She stared at him for another moment, then leapt at him. She enveloped him in a hug that threatened to force his ribcage into his lungs.

He held on all the same.

╟℣╢

LAX:

Anne Sumner walked along the airport hallway in silence, contemplating what she was about to do. She was about to willingly walk into the mist of her former friends and beg them for forgiveness. Whistler had told her that the odds of her surviving an encounter with them in Sunnydale were practically nonexistent but, she had to try. She hoped that Pike was right and that they hadn't hardened so much underneath the Eagle that they would be resistant to her pleas.

"Hello, Miss Summers," she turned her head to see…Lindsey, that lawyer that had tried to blackmail her into joining his firm, "Where're you heading off to?"

Instead of answering, she lunged forward and grabbed him by his tie and pulled him down so that she was right in his face.

"Get this, jerkoff," she snarled at him, "You and your little bunch of slimeballs will stop harassing me right now. Otherwise, I will get testy."

"Now, now," Lindsey said as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a pair of glasses and put them on, "That's no way to speak to your new employer."

"Don't you get it," she shouted at him, "I will never work for you!"

"Beg to differ," he said as he pulled out a metallic ball.

Buffy looked at it before she could even think and stared at it as it shot up a burst of red and yellow light. She stared at it for a moment longer until the lawyer put it back in his pocket, then lifted her gaze up to meet his.

"I love you, Master," she said dully.

A/N: I finished this one early, so, I decided to go ahead and post it. And, I swear, I did not plan for that connection with the title. It just popped into my head.

AS


	19. The Path of the Righteous

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

More than any other time in history, mankind faces a crossroads. One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness. The other, to total extinction. Let us pray we have the wisdom to choose correctly.

_- Woody Allen_

╟℣╢

The City of Angels:

Pike watched from his car as the plane that was carrying Buffy lifted off into the sky. He smiled and prayed for her, knowing that she was about to undergo the single most difficult task of her life. Sighing, he turned the key and drove out of the parking lot, completely missing said girl as she walked out with her new Master.

╟℣╢

Sunnydale, California…the Hellmouth:

"'The Seal of Danthazar,'" Andrew read to the group, "'A holding point for all the Turok-Han, a prehistoric breed of vampire that once served the First Evil.' In other words…bad monkey poo."

"I'm kinda surprised we can find this," Xander said, suspicion easily detectable in his voice, "If this thing is so evil, why keep a site on it?"

"The odds are that if this seal were to ever be used, then the being using it would destroy whatever information on it there was just before-hand," Giles stated casually as he brought another load of books down the stairs of the shelter, "That way, whoever was doing it would still have the element of surprise."

"…I can buy that," Xander said, uneasily, "So, what do we do about it?"

"The seal's dormant for now," Willow said as she read off the screen, "It needs blood in order to activate it but, once it is, here come the Turok-Han. God, that name is so cheesy."

"Sounds like something you'd find off of _Lord of the Rings_," Oz muttered in agreement.

"So, we need to make sure that it never gets used," Lozen pointed out the obvious, "How?"

"Well, we could just drop a nuke down it," Xander answered, "That'd get rid of the Hellmouth and the seal all in one fine blast."

"And what about the town and it's populace," Giles countered.

"…Oh," Xander sounded defeated as he said this.

"Now, hold on a second," Faith leapt into the conversation, "Who's to say that we can't do that? I mean, the only thing keeping this town going is the fact that the Hellmouth makes them all stay. If we were to make it go to sleep, what're the odds that anyone'd want to stay?"

"And once they're all gone," Xander said, his eyes alit with pleasure, "We blow it up, everyone's happy. I like."

"How do we force the Hellmouth into dormancy," Giles questioned.

No one had an answer.

"Hold the phone for a moment, guys," Andrew called out as he and Jonathan looked over the map, "There's something else here that we need to go over."

"What is it," Amy asked.

The two geeks pointed up towards City Hall.

╟℣╢

The City of Angels:

Lindsey moaned in pleasure as his slave's delicate hands massaged his withered back. At first, he had been afraid that her Slayer strength would be too hard on him but, in her present state of catatonia, she was more in touch with her body and knew exactly how much strength to apply to a regular human.

"Would you like some more champagne, Master," she asked him mechanically as he drained the last bit from his glass.

"Yes, please," he said politely and lifted the glass up to her.

"Right away, Master," she answered him and she stood up, taking the glass from his hand as she did so, and went away.

Lindsey sighed and looked down at his watch.

"Buffy," he called out.

"Yes, Master," she asked as she walked back with a refilled glass.

"Put on that dress I bought for you," he said to her as he got out of his chair, "We're going to present you to my boss."

"Yes, Master," she responded as she turned away and headed towards the room.

Lindsey smiled and was about to go and watch her undress when he heard a knocking on his door. He growled out in anger, but turned to answer the door all the same. To his pleasant surprise, however, the person behind the door was the same person responsible for his current bliss.

"Warren," he greeted the nerd happily, "How are you?"

"Good, good," he responded with a grin, "Did it, ugh…work?"

"It did," the lawyer answered as he moved aside to allow the inventor entry, "And quite well. Ugh, what can I do for you? I hate to rush but, I have a meeting and-"

"Oh, this won't take long," Warren answered as he reached into his suit jacket and withdrew a long bracelet in the shape of a serpent, "I tested the Cerebral Dampener out on one of the Playboy girls," his eyes glazed over slightly as he said this but, he quickly came out of it, "I knew it worked, I just wanted to see if the Slayer spirit would do anything to stop it. Anyway, I found that the power of the Dampener is only temporary," Lindsey tried to jump in and ask how long it lasted but Warren held up his hand to stop him, "It lasts for about a day, but only because of the way the human body works."

At his look, Warren sighed and went over to the nearby desk. He pulled out a plane sheet of paper and drew a stick-figure human.

"The human body works in a flow," he began to explain, "It sends out bacteria and excess chemicals through the pores of the skin and…other areas," Lindsey nodded in understanding, even as Warren drew a bunch of lines flowing around the body, "This concept also works for magic. Basically, the human body is in a constant state of decay and, as such, magic tends to wear off after a time, unless it causes damage. The spell has to be powerful in order to last and the magic in the Dampener simply isn't strong enough. So," he held up the bracelet and smiled, "I came up with a device that stopped the flow. It basically holds the magic in, no matter what. When the bunny woke up, she basically threatened me with a bunch of charges till one of my bots knocked her out. So, while my girls kept her company," Lindsey didn't bother guess what he meant, the sick grin on his face was enough for him to know, "I came up with this. It should be enough to keep your Slayer under control."

Warren handed the device to Lindsey, who stared down at it for a moment, then nodded in thanks.

"No problem," the nerd stated as he stood up, "Anything for Wolfram and Hart."

Warren turned back towards the door, just as the lawyer turned away and headed over to the room that held his slave and entered it. She had just finished pulling the black dress up and was achingly trying to zip it up from the back. The lawyer took pity on her and gently zipped up her back. She turned to him and smiled.

"You're so good with your hands, Master," she said to him.

Lindsey smiled back at her and gently took her hand, then attached the bracelet to her.

"Thank you, Master," she didn't even inquire as to what it was, she just accepted it.

He smiled and led her out the room.

╟℣╢

Sunnydale:

"So, the Mayor's either a baddy or sitting atop a baddy," Faith muttered, figures, all politicians were evil and this just proved it.

"Looks like it," Andrew agreed, "So, I recommend that we start researching our beloved Mayor and see if he's up to anything."

"So, from what we can tell, we have three fronts for the research," Xander said, automatically going into 'soldierific mode,' "The Seal of Danthazar, the Mayor, and ways to negate the Hellmouth. Why don't we have three teams working on them consecutively, that way, we don't all spend all our time and resources on one project."

Giles nodded in agreement and said, "It would be best. I'll take up the Hellmouth, seeing as how that's my area of expertise."

"I'll cover the seal," Andrew put forward, "I've spent the most time on it."

"I guess that leaves me with the Mayor," Willow said with a grin, "I always wondered what it would be like to work on capital hill."

"Jonathan works with Andrew, Oz with Wills, and Cordy with Giles," Xander put forward, "The rest of us will take patrol and help out when we get back. Since tomorrow's Sunday, we'll be helping out all day then."

Everyone nodded in agreement, except for Lozen. She was focused forward, her eyes dazed, as though she were looking off at something that only she could see.

"Lozen," Faith asked, concerned for her parental figure, "Are you OK?"

"…I don't know," she answered slowly, "I get the feeling that…I am needed, somewhere else. The girl in the office," she stood up abruptly as she said this, "We need to go. Now."

"Where to," Faith asked.

"…North," Lozen stated, "I get the feeling that we need to head North."

"Towards LA," Amy asked.

"…Not towards," Lozen said, "To."

"I'm going with," Faith said immediately.

"Of course you are," Lozen responded, "I wouldn't dream of leaving you behind."

"Me, too," Amy said in an instant.

"No," Xander told her as he stood up, "You are our most valuable asset on the Hellmouth right now. I can't let you go."

"I won't let them go alone, Xander," Amy responded through gritted teeth.

"…I'll go," he said with a sigh, "I hate leaving my post unchecked but, I trust you and my friends…and this is important to you all so, I'm going with. I'm sorry, Amy, but…you're just too valuable right now."

She growled at him, but nodded all the same. He was right, of course, but it didn't make it any better.

"If we leave right now, we can make it there by sundown," Lozen stated, "Let's go."

"I hate taking things on faith," Xander muttered as he followed after them.

╟℣╢

The City of Angels:

"I'm getting worried," Pike muttered as he stared down at the phone, "She should have called by now."

"Maybe she's trying to find them and forgot," Doyle said.

"Maybe she got her head bit off," Oliver responded back, "I knew I should have gotten an extra ticket and gone with her."

"Do you think they…" Lily didn't have to finish the question.

"No," the PI responded, "I don't think they would have."

"You don't sound very confident," Denver said from his seat nearby.

"I'm not," he answered back.

╟℣╢

Later that night:

"You sure that's the office building," Xander questioned.

The Slayer, Apache, and soldier were gathered inside Xander's car across the street from a law firm named Wolfram and Hart. They were staring at it, knowing that if this girl was inside that building that they'd have a tough time getting in and getting her out.

"I feel sure," the Apache stated, "I don't like the feeling but, I **know** that's where she is."

"Whoa," Xander said as he stared, "Hand me those binoculars," Faith tossed them to him, not liking his commanding tone but slowly getting used to it, "…Redhead?"

"Yes," Lozen responded.

"…Shit," he muttered, "There's a redheaded girl in a black dress coming out of the building that could be a damn clone of Buffy."

╟℣╢

Lindsey smiled as he exited the building, his arm wrapped around his slave. Mr. Holland had been surprised at Lindsey's actions but, he had promised to try and make the Senior Partners understand that they had a very valuable tool in their hands. With the Slayer underneath their control, the odds were that their businesses would increase exponentially. However, Holland had made it clear that the Slayer was Wolfram and Hart property and, as such, was not to be used for 'private matters.' That was Holland's way of saying 'screw her, and you're dead.'

He knew it was too much to hope for but, he would listen to Holland…for now. If the Sr. Partner's decided to go ahead and kill her, then he'd do it. Have some fun before he let the vengeance seeker have at her.

╟℣╢

The trio carefully followed the couple as they began to systematically hit the town, starting with a demon karaoke bar. They parked and got out, intending on doing some damage. They went inside and settled down, waiting to see if the redhead was here of her own free will or otherwise. Their suspicions were confirmed, unfortunately, when the redhead was addressed as 'Buffy' and she addressed the man as 'Master.'

Xander growled deeply, his anger barely constrained.

"I thought you hated her," Faith asked, amazed at his attitude.

"On some level, I do," he responded, "But, no matter how much I hate someone, I would never want to see them reduced to…**that**," he gestured emphatically at the couple, "It's degradation, plane and simple. Like I said before, I may hate her on a level and I may wish to never see her again, but…so long as she's willing to try, I'm willing to give a chance. Besides, this is completely wrong. It's perverse."

The other two nodded in agreement.

╟℣╢

As soon as the man and Buffy left the club, they had followed him back to his expensive apartment. They had waited till the two had gone to bed to make their move. They moved quickly, Lozen and Xander armed with their projectiles, Faith with a rusty blade, and stormed the room.

Xander, in his best DI voice, shouted as they invaded the bedroom, "GET OUT THE BED, MAGGOT! GET OUT, YOU LITTLE PUKE!"

Lindsey and Buffy awoke immediately to the sounds of yelling and the former instinctively got out the bed, still dazed, while the latter stayed there, having yet to be given an order by her Master. Before he could begin to think, Faith and Xander grabbed him and dragged him out the room, with Lozen remaining to cover the captive Slayer. The two teens threw the man into a chair and stood over him.

"What the Hell is going on here," Lindsey was fully awake now, but still not thinking straight.

"What did you do to her, asshole," Xander snarled into his face, "And if you don't give me an answer I like, I'll move outta Faith's way."

_Faith_¸ Lindsey wondered to himself, _the Slayer?_

The girl in question smiled at him, a smile that was all too sweet for a girl holding a rusty knife. Lindsey, before he could think better, looked over at the Cerebral Dampener that Warren had made for him. The two followed his gaze and smiled as they saw what he was looking at. Without hesitation, Faith threw her knife at the orb, causing it to burst open and for a small flash of light to sputter out and die.

"Anything else you wanna tell us," Xander asked casually.

"Faith, Xander," _Xander_, Lindsey wondered, _That is Xander, I recognize him…then…maybe he is the Eagle_, "What happened?"

"Is she better," Faith asked.

After a moment, Lozen's voice answered, "No."

The two turned to him again, and he could tell that they were pissed off beyond all belief.

╟℣╢

Buffy blinked as she felt the fog that had once been over her mind come free. She opened her eyes wide to adjust them to the light and began to survey her surroundings. She was in the main room, Lindsey tied up in the leather chair. To her immediate right were two women, one dark haired girl and an older blonde. To her left, however, stood a figure that she believed that she would never see again.

"…Xander," she muttered, fear and disbelief evident in her voice.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, Buff," he said to her with a small grin, "It's good to see you again."

She smiled…and actually felt a light in her soul for the first time in a long time.


	20. End of Damnation

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

_The best way to destroy an enemy is to make him a friend._

_  
- Abraham Lincoln_

╟℣╢

The City of Angels:

Anne Sumner, AKA Buffy Summers, stared into the face on the mirror with complete awe. This wasn't her. There wasn't fear on her face from the battles that she had fought, nor pain from all that she had caused. There was…happiness. Xander had come for her, to save her. That meant that he still cared…that he still, in some way, loved her. That thought was more than enough to bring a smile to her face.

She wondered if the others felt the same.

╟℣╢

Xander sat in his seat, his rifle laying haphazardly nearby, at the ready in case Lindsey McDonald decided to try anything. His thoughts, though mostly were upon the being he had chosen to guard while Faith and Lozen paid a visit to Wolfram and Hart, were upon the petite blonde…redhead, now, Slayer inside the bathroom.

He didn't really know how he'd feel when this happened but, he was thankful to say that…he was happy to know that she was still alive and well. As he had said before, he would be happy if he never saw her again but, until that day, he wished her all the best. He wondered how she felt, knowing that he now knew she had been here all this time. He hoped, for her sake at least, that she had thought long and hard about what happened.

But, what he hoped for the most was to reclaim their friendship. He didn't think that would have been what he wanted but, right now, he was willing to just forgive and forget…her absence just now seemed to hit him in the gut like a mallet. He had been in fight-or-flight for a while, focusing solely on the fight with brief intervals for Cordy and his friends. He wondered if he could start relaxing now, knowing that the one that they had lost was alive and well. He wondered if she would start relaxing.

He wondered if she had learned anything.

╟℣╢

"Any word on Princess," Doyle asked as he and Lily walked into Pike's office.

"None," Oliver stated as he looked in a phonebook from Sunnydale, "I'm going to call her friends, see if they've heard from her."

"Don't do that," Lily said as she sat down in front of his desk, "If she's talking to them, we need to give her time. She'll contact us when she's ready."

"She makes a point," Doyle agreed as he sat down beside her, his arm lingering on her back, "If Anne wants us, she'll holler."

"What if they've killed her," Pike asked, only halfway meaning it, "We don't know how they'd take it. Plus, this Eagle guy might decide to just off her so that she doesn't do anything stupid again."

"Let's hope that they'd be a bit better than that," the Irishman said, "Besides, Anne can take care of herself."

Pike, while still concerned for his friend, had to agree with that.

╟℣╢

Buffy came out of the bathroom slowly, hoping to prolong the inevitable conflict. She stifled the urge to gasp as Xander looked up from Lindsey to her, she had been sure that she hadn't made a noise. He must have gotten better.

"…Hey," she said awkwardly.

He nodded to her and motioned for her to take a seat in the chair beside him. As she sat down, however, he stood up and grabbed his rifle. He slammed the butt into the lawyer's head, right between the eyes, knocking him out and sending him into blackness.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," Buffy said to him, "Not that I care, but…"

"We might start discussing sensitive materials," he said to her in a tone that spoke of distrust.

The one thing 'Anne' had noticed about her former friend was that his motions were all…crisp and clean, more military. His eyes, however…they were scaring her, constantly. She didn't know how either had happened but, she was dying to find out.

"So," she looked up as Xander began to speak again, "Do you want to start? Or shall I?"

"If you wanna go, that's fine," she told him, intending on reigning her emotions in as best as she could…memories of how she had assaulted the robotic Xander were still too great in her mind.

"…How have you been?"

"…Not so good," she admitted, "When I came here, I tried to get my old job back…they wouldn't take me, so…I started stripping," might as well tell the complete truth, she told herself.

Xander stared at her for a moment, judging her. He never let his guard down, not for an instant.

"Then, do you remember Whistler, that demon I mentioned," he took a moment to think, then nodded, "He came to me and told me that the Powers were revoking my Slayer powers and demoting me to Champion."

"Can they do that," he questioned immediately.

"They did," Buffy stated, "I'm still stronger than a human, but…not more so than a vampire."

"Why," he thought he knew already but, he wanted to make sure.

"…As a punishment for not staking Angel," Buffy answered, her eyes watering as she thought back, "…They claimed that it was my duty and I didn't do it. They were right."

He said nothing, merely stared at her. She was beginning to get nervous.

"They said that if I got better and started saving people, not just from danger but…by helping them get better, I would be able to reclaim my former status."

He nodded.

"And before that," he asked her, "Were you doing that? Saving people?"

"…Not often," she admitted, "In fact, I only staked one vampire before he came. I wasn't much of a Slayer."

"So you started again in order to get what was yours," his question, while not without curiosity, held a bit of malice that she wasn't sure she liked…but, she could understand.

"No," she responded, "I started again because I took the time to think about it. I looked through their point of view, not just my own. I gotta admit…I didn't like what I saw."

He seemed satisfied with her answer, but…she couldn't be sure.

"And you," she asked, hoping to get some sense of how much they hated her.

"…We've been through some things," he said vaguely, "When you left again, we had to move on. Nobody was willing to do anything aside from just sit around, twiddling their thumbs, waiting for you to come back," his words seemed to hold a bit of anger, but, his tone betrayed none of it…anyone else would think they were two acquaintances engaging in a chat, "So, I decided to take point. I told them that we couldn't just sit around and wait on you, so, why don't we start fighting again? I came up with a bunch of specs for us to use, and…we started an armory."

"Like those," she pointed towards the rifle as she asked. She had never liked guns but, she was willing to give them a chance…so long as they were very far away from her.

"Like these," he said with a slight grin, "Blessed and covered with vamp killers of all kinds. Willow and Amy did good on that."

"Amy's working with you now," she asked, surprised. Amy never really seemed that useful, aside from getting them into trouble.

"We decided to try and do what you're doing here," he stated casually, "Try and help people on a more…emotional level. Amy was in need, so we provided it. She's become a very useful member of our group."

She decided to use the group opening to answer the singular question that had been on her mind since she had heard of him.

"And the Eagle," his face shifted automatically as she mentioned him, becoming more…humorous and uplifted. He must like the guy.

"…Well, I suppose I should tell you a little bit about our esteemed leader," he quipped, wondering how far he could go before she'd figured it out, "He was possessed as a young boy, by a vicious animal, no less. He was also a soldier for a short time. With our help, we did a spell and unlocked both qualities to their fullest degree. He's had some trouble adjusting to leadership but, Giles has helped him a great bit. He looks upon him as…more of a father figure."

"You're the Eagle," Buffy said in amazement as she latched onto the information, "I cannot believe it."

"Why," he asked, suspicious as to whether or not she thought he was worthy of such a reputation.

"The Eagle's ruthless, you're too good to be that way."

He smiled. She still held him in a good place, as someone who is decent. He wondered what she'd think when she heard.

"You'd be surprised what people are capable of when they're forced into a position," he told her.

╟℣╢

Lozen and Faith entered the office quickly, shutting and locking the door behind them as they did so. It had been easy to get inside, what with them having access to all of Lindsey's equipment.

"Start with his computer," Faith said, "I'll go through his cabinets."

"Good thinking," Lozen said as she sat down at the lawyer's desk and began to go through his computer.

A few minutes later, Faith pulled out a file that looked suspicious and began to leaf through it, only to stop at the first few pages.

"He's got a file on every member of the Sunnydale crew," the Slayer told Lozen, "Along with a few people here in LA."

"He's got those same files on his computer," the Apache told her, "He must have spent a great deal of time researching them. At least he has nothing on me or you."

"Think that's all he has, though," Faith questioned her mentor.

"I think so," Lozen said as she inserted a disk into his computer, "And, if he has anything else stored in his files, they won't be of any more use to him."

"Let's jet, then," Faith said as Lozen's virus worked through the lawyer's systems.

As they left the room, however, neither noticed the attractive lawyer watching them evacuate as quickly as they could.

"I don't know who you are," Lilah Morgan whispered as she entered the office and surveyed the damage they had wrought, "…But, I wanna know so I can thank you personally."

╟℣╢

Buffy stared at her former friend in awe. They had been through a lot in a short amount of time, that much was obvious. She felt awful, knowing that she had fully misjudged her friends. If they were able to do all that without her, she had no choice but to wonder what could have happened if she had let them participate more.

"Do you need any help," she was referring to their quest to purge the Hellmouth, destroy the Seal of Danz-something, and to find out what the Mayor was up to.

"We might later on," he told her, "…Buffy, we do miss you, Willow most of all. Were you ever going to come back?"

"…I hadn't planned on it," Buffy admitted, "Then, I found my Dad, and he sent Pike over to me. He bought me a plane ticket, Pike did, for me to come to Sunnydale…try and make amends."

"…I know you came back for the books at Angel's place," she stared at him in shock, how had he known, "I had dropped by because I knew he had some books there that might be useful but, I couldn't find them. I knew that only two people knew where to go, so…"

"…How did you know," Buffy asked, "I never thought to ask before but, how did you know where Angel stayed?"

"I tailed him one night," Xander informed her and, where she once would have doubted him, found herself completely believing him, "…He came back, you know," she looked at him oddly, not sure how to take that news, "He came back from Hell. He was insane…I had to kill him."

Buffy wanted to rage at him, wanted to just start laying down the law on him…but, she forced herself to stop and think. That was the one thing that she could do now, think. She had gotten better at it.

"…Did he try to kill you?"

"Me and Giles," he wasn't lying, she knew.

"Then, you did the right thing," she told him, and it was obvious that he found her words as a surprise, "If Angel had ever gone insane, I would have hesitated and it would have cost me. Even when I did try to kill him, back when I first moved to Sunnydale, I couldn't…I felt too much for him."

He stared at her for a moment.

"…You've changed," he told her.

"So have you. Time tends to do that."

He grinned at her…then began to chuckle. For some reason, she found herself chuckling along with him. Before long, that chuckle became a fit of laughter.

╟℣╢

Denver looked up from his reading material as he heard the front door of the Hyperion open.

"Anne," he muttered as she and a familiar looking man came inside, along with a brunette girl and a blonde woman.

"Anne," he turned his head to look as Doyle and Lily came trumpeting down the stairs to greet their friend and Pike come out of his office.

"Hey, everyone," the former Slayer greeted them, even as the other three stayed near the entrance, "Um, I'd like to introduce Xander Harris, Faith, and Lozen. They're from Sunnydale."

Oliver looked up upon hearing the name of the man that they had all thought she had killed. He came forward slowly and extended his hand to him.

"Oliver," he introduced himself as the younger man shook his hand, "But everyone calls me Pike."

"Xander," he responded with a small grin, "So, you've been the one keeping her outta trouble?"

"Yeah," he said with a grin of his own, recognizing a joke for what it was, "So, you're the guy she supposedly killed."

Buffy blanched. She hadn't got around to tell him that yet. She turned to him and found him staring at her, his face a mask of curiosity.

"…Wolfram and Hart sent a robot look-alike," she told him, "He goaded me into a fight and…when he said that I could go to Hell with Angel…I lost it."

He stared at her.

"…You didn't try and kill me today," he said to her, "Even when I told you about Angel."

He left it at that.

╟℣╢

Faith watched on as her sister Slayer…or former sister Slayer, spoke to her friends about what she was going to do now. She was planning on going to Sunnydale to try and make amends with her friends. Xander seemed to be willing to forgive her, particularly after she hadn't lashed out at him for killing Angel.

"How do you feel about this, Faith," she turned her head to look at Lozen.

"…I don't know," Faith admitted, "I know that I don't like what B did, but…I don't really have much right to judge here. I ran from my problems with Kakistos-"

"You ran because he was trying to kill you," Lozen reminded her, "It's not the same thing."

"You're right," Faith admitted, "But, I still don't know how I feel about this. If Xan's willing to give her a shot, then I don't have much right not to, I guess."

Lozen nodded in understanding.

"But, I don't trust her," Faith stated, "I won't."

╟℣╢

Sunnydale, California…the Hellmouth:

Willow Rosenberg, Cordelia Chase, Daniel Osborne, and Rupert Giles sat inside the library the next day, waiting. Xander had called to let them know that he had found Buffy…she was going to come home…and talk to them.

They still didn't know what they would say.

* * *

A/N: OK, I know a lot of you were expecting a free-for-all here, but, I'd like to take a moment to explain why I don't believe Xander would go that way during their meeting.

1. In prior chapters, Xander wars with himself over his love for Buffy and his hatred for her. He has always been uncertain as to what he would do if he ever saw her again.

2. Xander finds her while she's a slave. That's bound to bring in sympathy.

3. Xander, despite all the changes he's gone through, is still an overallnice guy.

4. Unfortunately, Xander characteristically tends to fold whenever it comes to Buffy, even after he fights back. That's cannon.

Plus, this isn't going to all be sunshine and roses...there's a big blowout next chapter.


	21. Fellowship

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

_Friendship... is not something you learn in school. But if you haven't learned the meaning of friendship, you really haven't learned anything._

- _Muhammad Ali_

A/N: Ok, these are the last two chapters I'm loading up for a while. I'm going away for two weeks, so, I won't be updating for a while. Thanks for trying to keep me writing this story, and I will finish it. Enjoy, and, please...review.

AS

╟℣╢

Sunnydale, California…the Hellmouth:

Xander drove down the street, allowing the quiet to make its presence known to him. Sitting beside him in the passenger seat was someone he had never thought he'd see again…Buffy Summers.

Fate, it seemed, wanted them to meet again. He could see the trepidation on her face as he drove them closer to the High School. Lozen and Faith had opted to walk around in the daylight, obviously to give him and her some time alone. And, perhaps, to dredge out how they felt about this all. For two of the smartest people he had ever met, they were also two of the most down-to-Earth people he could ever want to meet. He was grateful for their friendship.

Friendship…that was going to be tested today, he knew. All four of his friends had their own concerns over this all and would definitely get them out there. This would most definitely be a test today, but, he felt confident that both groups would pass. Buffy had gotten better, he felt certain of that. She seemed truly apologetic and had proven herself by not trying to kill him and being understanding when he had told her about Angel…of course, that was somewhat negated by the fact that she had killed his robotic form when she hadn't even known that it wasn't him. But, he felt somewhat better about it after hearing that Buffy had chosen to take the punishment and would have been punished if it weren't for the evil law firm. Before, he felt fairly certain that she would have found some way to justify herself. It definitely went for her.

As he drove along the road, however, he saw a sight that he hadn't seen in a while: a small group of demons were moving through the empty wooded area, with no concern whatsoever.

"We got company," Xander told Buffy as he slowed the car down.

"Let's get 'em," the former Slayer said as she began to open the car, only to stop as she felt Xander's hand grab her arm. She turned her gaze to him and he felt surprised to find that it was filled with curiosity, but not anger. If he had done this before, she would be pissed.

"They might be friendlies," Xander told her as he reached underneath his seat and pulled out a camera. He attached an extended lens to it and focused on the group. He took a few quick pictures of the demons and pulled the camera back inside.

"What now," Buffy asked.

"You're gonna love this," Xander said with a cheeky grin as he pulled out his radio and a set of wires. He began to attach the wires to the digital camera and the radio, then turned the device on and said, "X-man to G-man, X-man to G-man, come in, over."

"Will you bloody stop with that infernal nickname, Xander," Buffy grinned as she heard Giles's voice come over the radio.

"Never," Xander said into the radio, "Listen, tell Wills to attach the radio to the computer. I've got six bogies near the woods. Check and see if they're hostile."

"Right," Giles answered.

A few minutes later, Willow's voice came in through the speaker.

"Star Fleet to Enterprise, come in Enterprise," the redhead called.

"Enterprise," Buffy asked, shocked.

Xander just grinned and said, "This is Captain Harris of the Federation Automobile Enterprise, request status on unknowns, over."

"Captain, unknown alien race comes in as a threat level ten," Xander winced upon hearing that, "Consider them deadly, like the Borg."

"Roger that, Star Fleet," Xander said into the radio, "Advisory?"

"Are they gone," Willow asked, letting go of the charade.

"Yeah," Xander stated, "We could have Andrew check the map, find out where they are."

"…Come in," the redhead called, "We'll have Andrew start looking but, till then, we need to start researching."

"That bad, huh," Xander asked rhetorically.

"Worse. See you in a few."

"Later," Xander said and he turned the radio off, "So, first day back and already, Hell's comin' out of hiding. How's it feel being back home, Buff?"

"…Like I'm back home," the former Slayer said with a small smile.

╟℣╢

Xander stopped the petite girl as the two neared the library entrance.

"Do you want me to…" he paused for a moment to gather his courage, "You know, get them ready? Or do you just want to go in there."

Buffy sighed and took a quick moment to think. The first time she had come back, no one had any warning. This time, they were expecting her. But, they were also researching…on a Monday…during class hours, if she recalled.

"Is today a holiday," Buffy asked.

"Teacher work day," Xander said.

"…Let them know I'm here," Buffy said as she came to a conclusion, "That way, they can take enough time to stop what they're doing…or continue on, if they want."

Xander nodded. He had hoped that she would say something along those lines. To just waltz in there may have caused a disruption and a disruption could cause a loss of information which, as Giles would attest to, could lead to some very bad things…such as the loss of critical Intel that could make or break an operation.

He turned away and entered the library. There, the four people he knew best were hard at work, trying to find something on the demons that he had seen. They all looked up upon hearing him enter, fear complete in their features.

"Xander," Giles said in a mixture of relief and worry, "Where's-"

"She told me to go ahead and let you know that she's outside," Xander interrupted the Englishman to stop his worries, "She wanted to give you some time so that you could come to a decent stopping point in your research."

This took all four by surprise. Ordinarily, Buffy would just charge in and interrupt anything they were doing to whine, the most memorable of these being during the fish fiasco.

"…Alright," Willow said as she turned back to her computer and began to save all the info she had, "I'll send all the stuff we have to Jonathan at the shelter and let him take over."

"I'll call Lozen," Oz said as he picked up a radio, "She and Faith can help."

"Tell them to bring Amy in," Willow told her boyfriend, "We're going to be needing all the help we can get."

"…What's the status," Xander asked, knowing that he wouldn't like the answer.

"…The Sisterhood of Jhe," Willow read of the computer screen, "A race a female demons who celebrate victory by devouring their foes."

"They're an apocalyptic cult of demons," Giles picked up, "By their presence, and the cycle of the stars and other signs across the globe…they intend to open the Hellmouth."

Xander sighed aloud. Their first unoriginal threat since Jonathan tried to become a vigilante…joy.

"When," at Giles's look, Xander knew that there was no answer that he would like.

"I haven't the foggiest," the Englishman stated, "The best course of action we can use right now is more research. I don't imagine them making a move till a week from now, considering that this is the first time we've noticed their presence."

"It might not be," Cordelia said, causing all four of them to wheel around to face her, "Jonathan did mention a few places that we haven't hit yet that have got a fairly large number of hostiles…did I just say hostiles?"

"Yep," Xander said with a grin as he came to his girlfriend, "Welcome to the Army, cutie," he finished off as he moved in for a hug.

Cordy smacked him, but returned the embrace all the same.

"I'll send all this in to the shelter," Willow said, "Should I have them start taking out nests?"

Xander sighed and thought for a moment, then said, "Yes. But, make sure they don't target anything above twenty. Jon's lightning, Faith's strength, Lozen's arrows, and Amy's Wicca stuff won't help them too much against more than twenty apocalypse demons."

"Leaving us free to," Oz didn't finish…he didn't have to finish.

Everyone knew what they were being left free to do.

╟℣╢

Buffy felt like she was going to collapse. Here she was, in the place that had been more of a home for her for two years, with people she considered her real family…and she was afraid. Afraid of what they might do, afraid of what they might say, afraid that they wouldn't accept her…but, why should they? They had done so twice before, once when she had been bad after being killed by the Master and another time after she had come back during her summer alone…only to leave again.

She wanted to crawl up into a hole and die.

Could they forgive her? Xander had said that he wouldn't forgive her totally till she had proven herself, and, even then, he would continue to be cautious around her…for a while, she hoped. Out of all her friends, she had been expecting the most hostility from him…but, when she considered the facts that she had already had her Slayer status revoked, that she had wanted to take punishment for killing his robot, that she had been reduced to nothing but a slave, and that she had not attempted to maim or kill him when she had been told about how he had killed Angel…she could understand why he hadn't been that hostile to her.

And she was grateful. It meant that she had a fighting chance. But, with the rest of her old friends…? That question was going to be answered.

The door opened…

╟℣╢

"Orders from Willow," Andrew read out, "'Target locations with fewer than twenty demons, Andrew remains behind to continue research.' Like I couldn't figure that out for myself."

"Could you have," Jonathan asked as he strapped on his glove.

"…I probably wouldn't have had enough spine to go out with you, anyway," the nerd said with a self-depreciating laugh.

"Don't worry, Andy," Faith said as she grabbed a few weapons off the walls, "You'll get your shot, sooner or later."

"No doubts," Lozen stated as she filled up her quiver, "From the way these monsters sound, we're going to need every man on deck."

"Ooh, no thank you," Andrew said with the shake of his head, "I'd much rather avoid the icky splatter fest. That'd be like…Luke versus Yoda, no contest."

"Why would Luke fight Yoda," Jonathan asked, "They're both Jedi."

"Maybe Luke went to the Dark Side," Andrew muttered.

"OK, enough with the 'Geeks are Us' bit," Faith said, her eyes alit with pain, "I don't think my mind can take much more of it."

"Faith, they're just discussing something they enjoy," Lozen said to her, "Just like how you and I discuss ambush tactics and espionage."

"But, they're talking about Luke Skywalker going over to the Dark Side," Faith whined, "That's just insane."

"Actually, if you read the books-" Jonathan started.

"Don't you dare," Faith said vehemently, "I like you, Jon, but if you keep on going on about Sci-Fi crap, then you're going from," she raised her right hand level with her neck, "Here, to," she lowered it down to the ground, "HERE."

The nerd gulped.

╟℣╢

…Giles walked out the door and paused as he saw his surrogate daughter.

_My God_, he thought as the two stared at each other, _It's really her._

She looked different, much darker than she had when he had last seen her. Her hair was red now, her eyes blue, and she was dressed in tones similar to Angel…a last remembrance for her departed love.

_I wonder if Xander has told her_, the Englishman thought to himself.

"…G-giles," the little girl muttered in disbelief.

The former Watcher smiled, even as small tears began to well up in his eyes. He had thought of this moment often. Each time he had imagined it, it had been different. Sometimes, he would be angry and attack her. Others, he would be like a father being returned to his long-lost daughter. He had considered what she had done to be selfish, by all standards. But, here and now, he found that he wasn't thinking about that, not at all…he was thinking about Jenny…thinking about how she would want him to be towards his daughter…she had been through a lot and, just by judging her at this very instance, with her worn and hopeful expression and the bags under her eyes, he knew that she had been through even more than he knew…or realized.

"Yes, Buffy," he said to her, "It's me."

She came forward, slowly, as though afraid he might bite her…which, she probably was. Finally, Giles granted her a bit of pity and opened his arms wide. She paused, apparently gathering her courage, and, finally, smiled as she charged at him. She ran into him, not hard enough to have taken him to the ground, but hard enough to have him take a few steps backward.

"…I missed you," she whispered into him as she cried.

"I missed you, too," and he meant it.


	22. Prophet

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

_"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or  
devil!-  
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,  
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-  
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-  
Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!"  
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."_

_'The Raven'_

_By Edgar Allan Poe_

╟℣╢

The group had gathered in the library, once more with all four of the original Scoobies present…for the first time in a near year. Buffy sat at the rear of the table, near the bookshelves, her eyes wondering around, trying to reacquaint themselves with their surroundings. Giles was stood near the stairs, his gaze stoic as it rested upon Buffy, his thoughts plagued with notions which both contradicted and went for his prior state of mind. Willow was sat close to Giles, with Oz right next to her. The former of the couple held a stony gaze, her eyes betraying the raw fury which she placed squarely upon the shoulders of the formerly blonde Slayer, while the latter was, as always, stoic, only to be challenged by two others for the place of 'least reactant.'

Cordelia was sat near the book cage, her own gaze flinty as she stared upon the new presence in the library. She held, out of all of them, the least reason to be infuriated but, over the time that she had spent amongst them without her presence, she had grown to be great friends with the redheaded Wicca and, she did not want to lose that as she knew she would if Willow would ever allow her back in. She held no problems with Buffy attempting to reconcile their differences, but, she didn't want to be pushed to the rear just because she was back…she didn't want to lose a friendship that she had been working on just because one girl blew back into town.

Xander was leaned up against the cage, his eyes unwavering as he stared at the...he had no idea what her natural hair color was, so, he was just going to go with blonde. He knew that wasn't it, but, she probably wasn't a natural brunette, either, so, he had no idea where to start. He knew how nervous she was, he could have smelled it without his enhanced sensory perception. He couldn't blame her for that but, the thing that surprised him most was the feelings he was getting. He had suspected, before, for both himself and Giles to be the most confrontational if they were to ever find Buffy. Instead, he was almost convinced of her change and Giles was struggling with the instincts of a father and mentor, which were rivaled with his own opinions. Meanwhile, both women of the group were radiating anger in a degree that he had never felt before. He was truly afraid that Willow (who had already taken one life) would start to build up energy and unleash it, or that Cordy would grab one of his guns and open up. That was the extremeness of the fury he was getting off of them. He hoped that neither did anything…the last thing they needed was for one of them to go up for murder.

"…Buffy, why don't you tell the gang what happened after you left," Xander tossed the girl a bone, just to get the ball rolling.

Buffy nodded, grateful for any excuse to end the silence that had been reigning ever since she had entered the library.

╟℣╢

Willow listened to her former friend's tale in a mixture of anger and bitterness. It sounded as though Buffy had been through a great deal, but, in the young Wicca's mind, she had brought it all upon herself. She had let Angelus roam free, forcing the Powers' hand, and thereby had brought her demotion upon herself. Willow was, however, sympathetic when she had heard how the young girl had been enslaved by an evil lawyer but, that sympathy had evaded her systems when she had heard how Buffy had assaulted a robotic version of Xander, just for telling her to go to Hell with Angel.

She had been sorely tempted to bring her power up and throw every bit of her soul into the former Slayer…but, she hadn't. She had been careful and, underneath Giles's tutelage, she knew better than to use magic for her own personal gain, or, for that matter, vengeance. Aside from that, Buffy had managed to see the fact that Xander had had no choice but to kill Angel when he had come back.

She wondered how the former Slayer would take hearing another piece of information, involving both Xander and Angel.

╟℣╢

Buffy sighed as she finished her tale, wondering how two most silent of the group would react. She felt the most fear when it came to Willow, she hadn't taken the time to get to know Cordelia so, her opinion didn't much matter to her. Maybe she would change that, if the cheerleader would let her.

"Seems to me that, you brought a lot of that on yourself, Buffy," Cordelia said after a moment, "Except with the whole enslavement bit, which, let me just say, ew, and…how could you even think about killing Xander! I know it wasn't the real one but, you didn't know that, did you? You killed Xander, just because he told you to go to Hell which, you yourself admit was totally within his rights. Tell me, why should we even consider you if you were willing to kill your former friend?"

Buffy blanched. She knew that that question was going to come up, in some form or another, but, she had hoped that Xander would be willing to give her a hand. As she looked at him, however, she knew that she would be receiving no aid from him. He wanted her to answer that question alone, without any outside help.

"…You shouldn't," Buffy said after a minute, "You should want to blast my brains out all over this wall. I did wrong, I admit it. And, I was willing to take the punishment for it, before I knew what it really was. And, when the lawyers tried to blackmail me into helping them, I told them to go ahead and rat me out. It would have been better than serving them."

"That's all well and good, Buffy," Cordelia said, "But, you trying to justify yourself through your guilt doesn't change the fact that **you killed Xander**."

Buffy took a deep breath to control her temper. She had a desperate desire to just stand up and walk away again but, that wasn't why she was here. She was in that library to own up to her mistakes, to take the punishment, and to try and win back the trust of her friends. She would not make the same mistake four times in a row, and run just because the going was getting tough.

"No," she stated strongly, "It doesn't. And, nothing will. I can't change the past, no matter how much I want to. But, I'm grateful that Xander is still here, he's still alive. I may have killed him, but he's still here. I may have beat him to death, but he's still here. Nothing will make what I did any different. It was wrong…I was wrong, and I never want to do that again. I never will, not ever. The only thing I can do now is move on. I won't dwell on my mistakes, though I will take lessons from them."

Cordelia, along with everyone else, took a moment to go through her answer. Buffy, apparently, knew that she had made a mistake but, she wasn't going to let that mistake stop her from doing her job. When compared to her attitude during the Angel fiasco, she had gone out of her way to **not** do her job, so long as it meant letting Angel/Angelus live. Now, she was saying that she'd learn from her mistakes and move on, that she wouldn't let them get in her way. It was…almost the polar opposite of what they were used to. They were used to the girl who would always remind herself of her mistakes (most notably, when they were fighting Angelus, she kept on blaming herself for sleeping with him and that interfered with her doing her duty). It spoke out greatly for her.

"…Suppose I do believe you, Buffy," although, most present were certain that the cheerleader was slowly being convinced, "Why should I believe that you'd even stick around this time?"

"…Well," Buffy looked to the floor slowly and said, "…I kinda…have to…leave, that is."

"What," Giles and Cordelia asked, while Oz and Willow just looked on without much enthusiasm, "WHY?"

"I have responsibilities in LA," she said, simply, "Just because I've come back doesn't mean that I get to abandon my duty."

That caught most of the group by surprise. They had, for the most part, expected her to stay with them. Instead, she was planning on going off shortly, returning to her duty…once more, their opinion of her was boosted, if only just. She was unwilling to shirk her responsibilities, even when she had the opportunity to mend relationships. Before, she had tended to shun her duties in order to spend time with Angel (as Xander had said, 'You…Angel…big…smootchies').

"I'm driving her back to LA after we're done with this next threat," Xander picked up.

"…I have to ask," Oz surprised everyone as he spoke, "…Why would you kill Xander for telling you to go to Hell, but not for killing your ex?"

"He had a right to defend himself," Buffy started, only for Oz to interrupt.

"I don't mean that…I mean, what caused you to kill him…when you couldn't kill Angel."

Buffy stared at him, unable to formulate a thought for a moment…she knew the answer already, but…

"…Because I loved Angel."

"But not Xander," Oz asked, and her silence was answer enough.

"Well, that's inspiring," Cordelia picked up, "Here you are, begging for forgiveness-"

"I'm not," she put forward.

"You are," Cordelia said, "You're just doing it indirectly. I've lived with enough politicians to know a copout when I see it. You want forgiveness, but you know that asking for it directly would do nothing more than make us NOT give it. For all we know, this whole attitude could be a ruse to get back in our good graces. You could be playing with us."

"I wouldn't do that to you," Buffy started.

"You did before," Cordelia said, "You used Xander to make Angel jealous, you kept everyone out of the fight when we could have helped, and you spared Angelus so many times…I lost count."

Buffy stared at her, hard, and said, "I am not trying to fool you."

"You are," Cordelia yelled, "I can see it still, in your eyes. You're the same spoiled little girl you always were."

"Oh, and you're one to talk," Buffy sneered, forgetting herself.

"You're damn right I am," the cheerleader said, "I'm Queen C, the master bitch of Sunnydale High! I know when I'm looking at a liar, and you're one of the biggest I've ever seen!

"I'll make this real simple for you, Buffy…if you had been the one to find Angel, out in the woods, acting like an animal, what would you have done?"

"I…I would have staked him," she responded, but, everyone could see the doubt in her eyes.

"I think that that's enough for right now," Xander picked up, he looked visibly shaken by what had transpired, but, he was ready to carry on, "Buffy, we're dealing with an apocalypse."

"What can I do to help," the Champion inquired, her face pale from earlier.

"Oz," the youth indicated the radio near the wolfman, who tossed it over to him.

Xander nodded in thanks and turned the radio onto a set frequency and began to speak into it.

"Dark Slayer, come in Dark Slayer," Xander said into the device.

"Right here, X-man," the voice of Faith came through the speaker, "What's up?"

"How's your situation," he asked.

"Five by five," Faith stated, "We took out twenty demons, and we're heading back in. Those bitches are fit, man. One of 'em took apart my crossbow like it was nothing."

"That shouldn't be a problem much longer, Faith," Xander said, "We're going to the shelter and we'll join you from there on in."

"Sweet," he could hear Faith's grin through the radio, "Though, this is the first straight up action I've had ever since we found the map. Shame, kinda enjoyed it."

"Which is better, Faith," the young soldier said, "One kill in five minutes or, forty in three?"

"…Forty in three," the Dark Slayer acceded, "See you in a few."

"Right," Xander said as he turned his radio off, "Alright, grab a radio, saddle up. Let's go bag us a sisterhood."

"That's not of traveling pants," Oz quipped.

╟℣╢

Andrew looked up from his work as the shelter doors opened, allowing in Xander, Faith, Lozen, Jonathan, Giles, Willow, Amy, Oz, Cordelia, and a redheaded girl that he thought looked familiar.

"Welcome to the Batcave," the nerd called out, even as his fingers wrapped around a Desert Eagle that Xander had left for him to use if they ever got brainwashed or put underneath a spell, "Who's the new girl?"

"Buffy Summers, meet Andrew Wells," Jonathan introduced him, "Andrew Wells, meet Buffy Summers."

"…wow," Andrew stated as he put the pistol away, "Didn't think I'd ever see you…ever."

"Um…who are you," Buffy asked, genuinely curious.

"Jonathan found a glove that gives him the ability to project lightning," Giles explained, even as he began to leaf through the thesis of Andrew's research, which he had printed out the second he had heard that the guru of research was coming, "He and Mr. Wells decided to begin vigilante stylings akin to that of a comic book hero. He used a costume, I believe, to go with the glove."

"I was stupid," Jonathan stated with a small grin, "And, he was just as stupid to go along with it."

"I still think it would have worked out alright," Andrew said, "…except that you never could have taken that glove off if it hadn't been for the wolfman."

"Oh, dear, oh dear," Giles muttered as he read Andrew's research, "You are sure?"

"Everything adds up, Rupert, old chum," the geek stated, "All the signs are saying that the end is going to come tomorrow night."

"…We're going to need some more information," the Englishman said, his voice fearful, "If the Hellmouth does open, then…do you remember, any of you, that creature that came out the night the Master opened the Hellmouth?"

"I do," Willow said as she turned pale, "We're going to have to fight it, aren't we?"

"If we don't kill each and every member of the Sisterhood by tomorrow night," was the Englishman's grave reply.

"Then, let's make with the preemptive strike," Xander said, "Wills, come give me a hand with this."

The redheaded Wicca quickly moved through the throng of tables and weapons over to where Xander was trying to lifted a heavy looking device out of a crate. She bent down to help him and the two worked together to move the device onto a nearby table.

"What," she paused as she saw what it was, "The rocket launcher? Do you really think we're going to be needing this?"

He just stared at her.

"We're going to be needing this," she amended.

"Wills," he said as he went back to the crate and pulled out an anti-tank rocket, "You were awful quiet when we started talking to Buffy. What're you thinking?"

The young woman turned her head and looked. Faith, Lozen, and Buffy were along the wall filled with conventional and medieval weaponry, where they were determining which weapons would best serve this little attack. She returned her gaze to him and sighed.

"I don't know if I can forgive her, Xander," she stated, her voice a mixture of pain and anger, "I mean, she abandoned us, twice, and now, she's back again, and she's expecting us to forgive her. I don't know if I can."

"Willow," Xander paused as he considered what he would say and decided to ask her, "Why do you think me and Giles haven't been as hostile to her as you and Cordy?"

"…I don't know," she admitted.

"Because, I saw her, when she was at her weakest, and I heard what she had to say," Xander told her, "Maybe it was more to do with the fact that we had just saved her from enslavement, but, I gotta admit…I'm being won over by her case. Maybe I'm reverting to type. All I know is that I said that I wouldn't trust her or forgive her till she had proven herself. From what I can tell, she's doing a good job…the only question is whether or not she can keep it up. I know she caused you a lot of heartache, Will, but…she caused me a lot of heartache, too, and I'm willing to forgive her…if she keeps it up. I'd be nothing if I weren't still that sweet hearted boy you first fell for. Just because I've grown up doesn't mean that I have to harden myself up completely. And you don't have to, either."

"Oh, Xander," Willow said as she pulled him into an embrace, "You'll always be that little boy, doing the Snoopy dance and helping me when I break my yellow crayon, no matter how tough you are around us. I don't think you could ever grow up, not completely."

"Willow hugs," she smiled as she heard him, "Always a great way to start a war."

She pulled away and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks," she said to him, "I think I needed that."

"My pleasure," he grinned at her, "But, if you and Buffy do get along again, remember…you're Cordy's friend, too."

"I don't think I could forget," Willow said, "Me and her…we really get along. Is that weird?"

"No, I don't think so," Xander stated as he continued to load up the launcher, "That's what girls are supposed to do…have little parties and gossip about their boyfriends."

She smiled at him again and picked up a utility belt.

╟℣╢

Xander, Lozen, and Buffy watched the entourage of demons (around forty inside a large cave), even as a camouflaged duo of witches floated up in the air. Jonathan, Faith, Oz, and Cordelia were positioned at the mouth of the cave, ready to come in the instant they got the chance. There were guards stationed up near the entrance and they were trying to deal with them inconspicuously.

"is this how you do things," Buffy whispered over to him.

"yes," he whispered back, "it sets us up for fewer casualties. Willow and Amy make a tunnel for us through magic, they go in first and float around, waiting to through down Molotov cocktails and fireballs, while me and Lozen stay stationed up here and fire into the crowd. Jon comes in first, firing a round of lightning, then we four do our job. The rest are there for ground patrol, keeping any demons from escaping."

"it seems so…impersonal," Buffy muttered, "I mean, I see the reason behind it, but, it just seems more natural to just head on in and take 'em all down."

"that, I believe, is your Slayer mentality talking, Buffy," Lozen stated, her voice an eerie mixture of formality and…disappointment, "Faith has the same problem, yet, she does her part well."

At that moment, a burst of lightning came out of nowhere and cut through the demons like a hot knife through warm butter.

"We're up," Xander stated and he opened fire.

╟℣╢

Giles looked up at the glowing cloud that was the Spirit Guides, hoping that they would have some answers for him.

"Do not deny me, Spirit Guides," he shouted in Latin, "Let the wisdom of those long since passed be showered upon me!"

"THESE SECRETS BELONG TO TIME AND THE DARK REGIONS," the Spirit Guides returned to him, "TO REVEAL THEM WOULD BE TO BRING DOWN CHAOS UPON THE LIVING EARTH, EVEN AS CHAOS HAS BEGUN AN EARLY REIGN."

"Chaos," Giles asked, "An early reign? How?"

"EVENTS WHICH HAVE TAKEN PLACE THAT WERE NEVER MEANT TO TAKE PLACE," the Guides stated, "THE SECOND DEPARTURE OF THE SLAYER, THE RISING OF A NEW CHAMPION FOR THE POWERS THAT BE, AND THE BEGINNING OF A NEW AGE WHERE MORTALS CHALLENGE THE OLD ONES WITH NO AID FROM THOSE CHOSEN, OR THOSE EMPOWERED. THE COURSE HAS BEEN ALTERED, FOREVER."

"How," the Watcher asked, "How has the course been altered," he hoped that in this, there was an answer to the question of defeating this next, great threat.

"THEY MATTER NO MORE, MORTAL," the Guides informed, "THE WORLD HAS YET TO MOVE ON AND IT NEVER WILL. THE SLAYER KNOWN AS BUFFY SUMMERS WAS MEANT TO BRING FORTH A NEW ERA OF DARKNESS BY THE ACTIVATION OF EVERY SINGLE SLAYER IN THE WORLD. THEN, THE VAMPIRE KNOWN AS ANGEL WAS MEANT TO BRING DOWN THE CIRCLE OF THE BLACK THORNE, BRINGING A MOMENTARY END TO THE SHIELDS WHICH THE WOLF, THE RAM, AND THE HART HAVE PLACED ALL OVER THE MULTIVERSE. THE RESULT WOULD HAVE BEEN THE RELEASING OF A RACE OF DEMONS WHICH WOULD HAVE RELEASED THE OLD ONES AND BROUGHT THE DAYS OF BLOOD AND CARNAGE BACK ONTO THE EARTHLY PLANE. THE WORLD WOULD BEGIN AGAIN IN A CYCLE, A NEVERENDING CYCLE, WITH ITS BEGINNING ALWAYS ARISING IN BLOODSHED."

The Englishman stared up into the glowing mass in fear. His Slayer…was meant to activate every potential Slayer in the world. Such an act was bound to send the balance of power in the universe off. And, what was more, Angel was meant to have brought the final end down with the destruction of the elite of the Wolfram and Hart law firm. But…

"Why would Buffy activate every Slayer," he asked.

"TO DEFEAT THE FIRST EVIL," the Guides answered, "SHE WOULD LEAD THE POTENTIALS AND HER ALLIES INTO A WAR WHICH SHE WOULD LOSE, NO MATTER WHAT SHE DID. THE FIRST WOULD THRIVE THROUGH THE CARNAGE WITH THE EMBALANCE IN THE SLAYER LINE AS ITS FOOTHOLD AND LIVED ON TO MAKE YET ANOTHER ATTEMPT TO GAIN CONTROL OF THE EARTH…AND THE FIRST EVIL WOULD FAIL, AGAIN. THE SLAYER WOULD HAVE BEEN A PAWN TO A GREATER SOURCE OF EVIL."

The Watcher stared up and gasped as he realized what the Guides were speaking of. The First Evil would have used the Seal, which held thousands of vampires that had allegiance to it, and Buffy would have been forced to activate every potential on Earth to combat that threat.

"THE CYCLE HAS COME TO AN END, AT LAST," he looked upon the Guides once more, and found that they had begun to dissipate, "THIS IS THE TIME WHEN IT WILL ALL BE DECIDED, WHETHER OR NOT THE BROKEN CYCLE WILL ALLOW THE WORLD TO PROSPER OR BRING IT DOWN TO A FIERY END…MAY GOD HELP YOU, MORTAL.

"DISTURB US NO LONGER."

Giles stared up into the sky as the split Guides began to move up into the Heavens, before he finally succumbed to the feeling of his legs and collapsed onto his knees. He stayed that way for some time, thinking. Finally, after nearly a half hour's worth of thought, the Watcher came to his feet and sighed.

"We have work to do," he stated as he began to gather his items.

╟℣╢

"Clear up," Xander shouted out.

"Clear down," the reply came from Faith as she and the others finished their search along the ground.

Lozen tucked her bow along her arm and swiftly made her way out of the tunnel, and she gripped the wall of the cave and used it to flip her body around so that her feet were along the floor as she fell.

"Showoff," Xander complained good-naturedly, "So, what do you think of our little operation, Buffy?"

She slowly turned her head around to face him. Her first instinct was to berate him for doing something so stupid but, she was trying to think more these days. So, instead of going with instinct, she paused and thought. Finally, she said…

"It's alright, but, what happens if some demons come from behind and charge at your ground forces?"

She had expected to have Xander stumped at that but, instead, she found him smiling.

"Then, Faith'll be having some fun," he said to her, "Besides, Wills and Amy can just split up and attack from both air and land."

She thought about it…and realized that he was right. She had underestimated him again, even when she had sworn that she wouldn't…not even a day in, and she was already reverting to type…but, wasn't Xander and Giles? No, Xander had always spoken his mind about whether or not he thought she was doing something wrong. Giles, on the other hand, was acting like a father who had just found his child…like her own father had.

But, she figured that Xander's attitude was a bit more due to the fact that he had found her when she had been enslaved. That was bound to make him a bit uncomfortable.

╟℣╢

The group arrived back at the shelter a little before two. Giles was back, his face a pale stain along a skull…he appeared to have been doing a great deal of research. As they entered, they all knew that he had found something…and that he didn't like it.

"Everyone, please," he started, "Take a seat."


	23. Childe No More

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

_Oh, Childe_

_The Dawn rises, yet, you do not See_

_The Shore is on the horizon, yet, you do not See_

_Wickedness awaits you, yet, you do not See_

_Oh, Childe_

_The Pale moon rises, and you do not See_

_Your Foes call, yet, you do not Hear_

_Your Mind beckons, yet, you do not Know_

_Blood spills, and you do not Smell_

_Oh, Childe_

_The Lightning arches in the night, and you do not Cower_

_The Fires bellow, yet, you do not Feel_

_A Gossamer kiss beckons upon your skin, yet, you do not Blush_

_Your Fear tries to claim you…and you Know_

_Oh, Childe_

_Oh, Childe_

_Oh, Childe_

_Oh, Childe of Fear, one who Knows not, Sees not, Feels not, Smells not, Hears not, Cowers not, nor Blushes as a delicate set of lips thrusts Themselves upon your own_

_Why does your Fear claim you so?_

_The Childe of Fear_ by American Soldier.

╟℣╢

"…No," Buffy muttered in disbelief as Rupert finished his rendition of what the Spirit Guides had told him, "That can't be. Even if there is a huge pit filled with vamps, I would never activate every potential. It'd be like…mass rape. I'd be giving them a curse that I don't want."

"Rest assured, Buffy," Giles said with some venom, he truly loathed hearing about it and loathed being with the one who'd been meant to bring it about even more so, "It would have happened. The Spirit Guides do not lie. They cannot, they are sworn by honor. Aside from that, if you were in a situation where you were up against an army of vampires and demons, what else could you do?"

"Call in the Council," Buffy answered.

"Like they've ever been a big help," Xander muttered, "Me? I'd just throw a nuke down the Hellmouth. If we wanted to, we could go in with missiles, napalm, incendiary rounds…what we've been doing."

"I'm with him," Faith and Amy said immediately.

"This really isn't the point," Willow stated, "Is it?"

"No," their mentor agreed, "The point is what we should do now. We have been presented with a rare opportunity to prevent two great travesties and, according to the Guides themselves, to stop a vicious cycle that the Earth has been in since the beginning. All we have to do is stop the Seal from being activated. Without the Seal, the First's schemes can't fully manifest. And, since the Seal itself is connected to the Hellmouth, I believe that the destruction of the Seal would effectively destroy the powers which hold the Hellmouth in place."

"What, you mean like circuits," at their looks, Jonathan continued, "Like, sometimes whenever you deactivate certain circuits in a mainframe, it causes other circuits to go offline, too. Like…one light bulb broken on Christmas lights."

At that, all the puzzled faces (Willow's, Lozen's, and Andrew's being the only ones whose were not puzzled) turned into looks of understanding.

"Quite," Giles agreed instantaneously, "Consequently, I believe that the effect of the Hellmouth that keeps people flocking here would be permanently destroyed."

"How'd you come up with that idea," Oz asked.

"Why else would people come here," Lozen spoke up, "It can't be for the quality hotels or food."

"Maybe the hotties," Faith said with a leer.

"…Ugh," Giles ignored the look he had received from both Faith and, unless his eyesight had suddenly become much worse, Lozen, and pressed forward, "I believe that the Hellmouth is the power that keeps people coming. Without it, no one would even dream of coming. Humans tend to have a sixth sense about those kind of things and, I believe, the deactivation of a Hellmouth would be enough to kick them into gear, as it were."

"What would this great scheme do to the Mayor," Xander questioned.

"We'd have to do more research before we could even dream up those consequences," Giles answered, "For now, I propose that we deal with this next apocalypse and leave these plans for later."

"Right," Xander spoke up again and stood up to his full height, immediately gaining the group's attention, "Buffy, I know you have responsibilities in LA but, we are dealing with an apocalypse. Would you-"

"I'm not leaving till I know my friends are safe," Buffy answered, her gaze cold with complete determination.

"…We've basically missed the preemptive shot," Xander moved forward, "That leaves the night of. I recommend having Jonathan, Faith, Lozen, Buffy, and Amy be on the inside of the library, while myself, Willow, Oz, Cordelia, and Giles take to the outside and keep the demons off your back."

"I thought you were planning on being on the front lines," Willow questioned her friend, "With the rocket launcher?"

"That is also why I want for us to be on the outside," Xander stated, "We can act as reinforcement if the first wave cannot cut it. If needs be, I'll move in with my anti-tank and take out as many demons as I can. Jonathan has his glove, which would come in handy against any demon."

"Where am I during all this," Andrew asked, feeling left out, even though he wanted to be nowhere near a battle.

Xander and the others shared an uncomfortable look amongst themselves. Finally, after a few moments of searching for the answer, Xander decided that it was time to tell the pipsqueak the truth.

"Andrew," he took a breath and collected his thoughts, then said, "Look, you're good with computers and all, but, in the battlefield…you got nothing on the table. You're worse than I ever was. Plus, you simply are not mature enough to be in a combat zone."

"What," Andrew asked, offended, "I'm ready!"

"You're not," Xander stated coldly, inwardly disliking what he was doing, though he knew it was right, "I'm not going to jeopardize lives by putting you into the middle of a battle when you've never had any combat experience. Even before my first apocalypse, with the _Codex_, I had been in a great deal of combat zones before, and had always brought the fight to the table. You have had the opportunity to train for months, I believe, and have yet to take it. I've offered it, and so has Giles. All you want to do is sit there at your computer, and that's what you're good at. For this one, we don't need you. **If** you were more mature, **if **you were more capable, **if** you had taken our offers…this wouldn't even be an issue."

Without any hesitation, the young man placed a hand upon Andrew's shoulder and said, quietly, calmly, "Trust me when I say that, Andrew. I was once in your shoes, being kept out because I was 'the normal one.' But, you have to admit…you don't have any skills in violence, period. When I first started, I was a brawler…that's more than you have now, and you have no one to blame but yourself. Plus…you're still thinking of this like its some kinda video game. You and Jonathan wanted to play some kinda super hero game. Get this, Andrew…real people are going to die, and you might be one of them. Do you really think you can handle that?

"Answer me, tell me you're one hundred percent sure that you can handle the possibility of death, that you can handle killing someone…and you can fight."

The young man looked deep within his being, hoping to find the courage to go where he wanted…but, just as he had suspected, it wasn't there. Instead of answering, he asked…

"Were you?"

Xander sighed quietly and nodded, "I killed my best friend in my first fight to keep him from killing the woman I love," he shared a quiet look with Cordelia as he said this, "The second I heard what Jesse was, I was ready…I was willing to do what was necessary. Still am. When you get there, then, you'll know. You'll be ready."

With that, he let go of the geek and turned back to the group.

"Let's go. We got work to do."

╟℣╢

Andrew sighed aloud as he watched the group from the catwalk, preparing to go into a war that he desperately wanted to help with. He had never been much for battle, never been much for bloodshed, but…this was something he **knew** he had to do. He felt it, in his bones, in his heart…this was where he was needed.

"Hey," he looked up into the smiling face of Xander, who was gripping something in his left hand, "Sorry I had to be that hard on you, man. But, you just got a little bit of growing up to do before you can fight."

"…Don't be," Andrew said with a heavy sigh, "You're right. I'm still looking at this like it's some kinda game."

"You'll get there, man," Xander clapped him on the arm once, then tossed something into his lap, "Keys to my car. Go out, have a night on the town. It might be your last," with one final clap, the young warrior turned and went back down into the den of arms.

"...First and last," the geek muttered as he gripped the set of keys.

╟℣╢

_Oh, Childe_

_Childe who Knows not, Sees not, Feels not, Smells not, Hears not, Cowers not, nor who Blushes as a delicate set of lips thrusts themselves upon your own_

_Does your Fear claim you now?_

_Oh, Childe of Fear…Has your Fear died yet?_

_Childe…Have you Feared yet?_

_Do you know what Fear is?_

_The Dawn rises, The Shores glisten, the Dark recedes, The Villainy undone…_

_Does your Fear yet claim you?…_

_Or have you pushed it off?_

_The Blood shines in the Night_

_Where is your Fear now?_

_Is it yet gone…just like your childhood?_

_- Childe No More_ by American Soldier.


	24. Live and Let Live

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

_The answer to life's problems aren't at the bottom of a beer bottle, they're on TV._

_- Homer Simpson_

╟℣╢

Xander grabbed a hold of the rifle as Oz tossed it towards him, then eased it into the fire extinguisher case. They had been outfitting the entire area near the library with arms of all kind, hidden in unused lockers and in the air vents, all day, using a spell that Willow had found to hide their actions.

Most of the heavy artillery was squared away inside the library, where they could use it against the Uber-demons that would be coming through. The odds were that the entire library would be destroyed by the end of the battle, so Giles, Buffy, and Faith were working tirelessly to get the books back to the Watcher's home. They may have all the data sources but, he knew what those books meant to Giles. Aside from that, he, Willow, and Oz could handle the hallway. Lozen, Amy, and Jonathan were doing well when it came to outfitting the library with everything they would need.

So far…so…

╟℣╢

Andrew sighed solemnly as he walked back to Xander's car and got inside, careful not to spill over any of his donuts. He didn't usually eat these, but, today he felt like being a little daring. After all, he wouldn't get to fight and would probably die by the end of the evening…might as well enjoy himself.

"Is that a 1975 Mustang convertible," he heard a somewhat ditzy voice call.

He turned his head to see a beautiful looking blonde with a sly grin on her face as she examined Xander's car. A thought invaded his mind as he realized that this girl was one of those babes who went after guys with sports cars…and he was in a Mustang.

It may have been the last night on Earth for young Andrew…so, he figured, he might as well use it to get one experience every young man dreamed about.

Sex.

"Yes," he said, trying to sound indifferent but, not really succeeding, "It is. Why?"

She strolled around the car a few times, stroking it lovingly, spouting out some car crap that he had absolutely no idea about. She made a remark about it's condition being good, except for a dent in the front, but, he couldn't care less. Today, all Andrew wanted was to spend his first ever day out that hadn't been devoted to Sci-Fi or _Dungeons and Dragons_ on something that would make him happy.

"Want to go for a ride," he squeaked out.

She looked at him with a somewhat sexy gaze, then tilted her head a little. He wondered what she wanted, then figured it out as he saw her eyes travel to the car door. He scrambled over to the other side and opened the door quickly, then tossed the box of donuts into the back, knowing that they probably wouldn't go over too well with the hot blonde.

Like she cared.

╟℣╢

Buffy walked into the library, ignoring the same feeling she got every time she got a look at some of the rifles and explosives that Xander and the group were bringing into the school. She had never liked guns, and very highly doubted that she ever would. But, her friends…if they still were her friends…they were not all Slayers or werewolves or witches…they were normal people, people who were not given gifts of strength or vitality or power.

So, they made due with their own ingenuity. It was remarkable, in many ways. And, yet, after all the things she had seen that kind of weaponry do…she still didn't want to use them.

"Hey, Buffy," she turned her attention over to Amy, who had been piecing together an RPG with a diagram by Xander, using her magic more than her mind to guide her, "What's with the face?"

Buffy rejected the urge to just come out and say it. She knew that the others were aware, but, it was so strange…feeling her that way.

"Hey, Amy," she opted for denial instead of honesty, "I was just…thinking about…" she changed her mind, deciding that she had been keeping things in for too long and that it was time to release a little discomfort, "…Ugh, I'm sorry, Amy. It's just that…every time I see you, I get…"

"A strong blip on the Slaydar," Amy intoned, looking very smugly at Buffy.

"…Yeah," the blonde Slayer admitted.

"I don't blame you," Amy responded as she returned to her work, "I was a little wigged out when I first figured it out. But, I'm just grateful I can go out in the sun."

"…I never thought of that," Buffy stated with a shy look, "What would have happened if…"

"I'd've found a way outta it," Amy said reassuringly, "Me and Willow would've, at least."

"…I'm sorry about what happened to you," Buffy said, only to be waved down by Amy.

"Don't be," she said, good naturedly, "You didn't do it, and it was something beyond all our control. Drusilla came too fast, we couldn't do anything…till it was too late."

╟℣╢

Andrew rolled his eyes in boredom as the girl, whose name he had yet to even hear, droned on and on about her past dating experiences with guys with cars. It was worse than listening to jocks try and talk _Stargate_.

He blinked as he realized that she had stopped talking. He turned his head slowly to see if she had realized that he hadn't been listening, but, instead found her gaze to be focused on a guy in tight jeans and a letterman's jacket.

_She must think he's hot_, Andrew thought to himself, _Eh, he's alright, but, not my type. Too bulky. Wonder why **she** likes him, though. She only goes for guys with hot cars._

Then, he saw it. He was holding a set of keys with a Dodge Charger for a key chain. Before he noticed much more, however, she had already moved on for the Charger guy. Sighing, Andrew decided to pack it in and go home…play _Dungeons and Dragons_, then hook up to the Net for some porn.

He walked outside quickly, not wishing to meet his former date and her new date on the way out, and quickly entered his car. Before he could start it, however, he felt a great force impact it from the front, banging his head up against the roof as it hit.

"OW," he muttered in pain as he rubbed his soar head, "…I feel like I was on Alderaan."

He took in a deep breath to control the pain and gingerly got out of the vehicle. He gasped as he saw the damage done to the headlight on the left side, but was grateful that nothing else had happened.

"Ok," he said to himself, "Nothing to worry about. Exchange insurance, get outta here. It's not like Alderaan, not-"

He stopped talking as the driver of the vehicle that had hit him got out of his car…Jack O'Toole, the bully who had made it his business to get in his face every single chance he had.

"…The end of the world," he muttered to himself.

╟℣╢

Willow watched as Giles and Amy set up the spell. She knew it wasn't so but, sometimes, she'd felt that, ever since the adjoining spell, Giles had taken Amy under his wing. He had been working with them both, however, she had noticed that he had slowly, but surely, redirect his attention to the Dhampir whenever she was nearby, or working on a spell. She sometimes wondered if he secretly favored her, or perhaps thought her a better student. She berated herself mentally, knowing that Giles loved them all equally, like children, and that her concerns…jealousy, was not necessary.

After all, she and Amy were friends. (She felt gratified by the fact that she had felt no discomfort upon noting that, knowing that it meant that she truly thought of Amy as a friend) That fact was enough to make her natural instinct of drawing attention to herself die down. She trusted Giles, trusted Amy, and felt that he would never pick favorites…not after the last one he had chosen as a favorite.

╟℣╢

Andrew ignored the terror in his stomach. How he had end up getting involved with O'Toole, been invited to a resurrection or two, and driving him and three of his formerly dead buddies around was beyond him. If only he had decided to tell the cop what had happened, he wouldn't have to be dealing with these bozos.

"Well, I've heard some interesting ideas, fellas," he heard Jack say to the boys in the back, "But, ugh, I think we're gonna go with Dickie's. Let's bake a cake!"

The three in the back shouted out in joy, hoping and hollering, and Andrew once again felt a great pressure on his stomach. He desperately wanted out of this.

"If you guys want me to drop you off somewhere, that's-" he started, knowing they'd never let him get away with it, but, trying anyway.

"Nah, you're with us now," Jack said to him.

"That's right," he ignored the feeling of filth as one of Jack's friends grabbed him by the shoulders and began to roughly shake him, "You're on the team, now, baby! WOOHOO!"

He smiled, worried. This was going to be a long night.

╟℣╢

Oz stood inside the library, thinking as he often did. Tonight had been a full moon…only Willow had noticed and, that was solely because she was his girlfriend, but, he should be a raving wolf by now. Still, he was himself…his **human** self. He wanted to know what was happening, doubting that it was all caused by his love for Willow. But, then again, who knew…maybe it was his love for Willow that was causing all this.

He loved her with all his soul…and, seeing as how they were on the Hellmouth, it might mean something…mystical, that kind of love. It was rare, not even Xander and Cordelia had it. He knew…he could smell it. They were in love, no doubts there, but, they hadn't reached the kind of level that he and Willow had. They would, eventually, but, they were still second guessing each other from time to time. They weren't as confident in their relationship as he and his redheaded girl were.

Love. Maybe the Hellmouth didn't just amplify bad things. Maybe.

Nah.

╟℣╢

Andrew watched from his car as Jack and his gang began to dig through the wreckage that had been a hardware store.

"I am actively participating in crime," he muttered to himself, "I am the criminal element…I'm like Jabba the Hutt…although, I'm not a disgusting slimeball."

He paused for a moment, forgetting the adrenaline rush he was getting as the getaway man, and thought. He was participating in a robbery which could set the man, woman, or whoever owns this place back so far that they'd have to close down the store…lose their house…lose their spouse.

He wasn't going to be a part of that. Silently, he switched into drive and sped off into the night, ignoring the zombies' shouts of rage in the night.

"I think that's enough excitement for one day," Andrew said to himself.

╟℣╢

Lilah Morgan resisted the urge to scream as the three demons sliced through the Spec Ops agents she had been using as body guards like a hot knife through melted butter. She had come to Sunnydale with the intent of making the Sisterhood of Jhe stop their ritual, so that she could exploit the 'Scooby Gang' as best as she could. Instead, they were about to make her into a snack treat.

Still, she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of screaming. As they closed in around her, she closed her eyes, hoping for some last miracle to come and save her damned existence. Then, she gasped as she heard the squealing of tires come her way.

╟℣╢

Andrew sped up as he saw that three demons had surrounded a woman in a business suit. He wasn't thinking, just reacting, knowing that if he didn't act fast, that this woman was going to lose her life.

He closed his eyes as he lined up his target, not wanting to see the demon go SPLAT. He felt the jerking of the car as he rammed into two of the demons, one having moved in the way in an act of defiance, and came to a sudden stop.

"Get in," he yelled to the woman.

She didn't need telling twice, that was obvious from the way she ran from the only upright demon that was heading her way and into the door on the right side. She opened it up and climbed inside quickly, and he sped off into the night before she could get the door closed, knowing that the demon would get to her before she could. Fortunately, she didn't fall out, so, she closed the door and slid down into her seat, releasing a sigh of relief.

"You alright," he asked as he drove down the street.

"Could be better," Lilah muttered.

She raised her gaze over to the driver's side and was surprised to find it occupied by a kid who looked like he should be at a Sci-Fi convention instead of rescuing damsels in distress. Still…she had to admit, he was kinda cute…in a geeky kind of way.

"Do you want me to drop you anywhere," Andrew stiffly replied as he resisted the urge to stare at the woman's body…she was more better looking than Mara Jade.

"…My hotel," Lilah said as she settled down deeper into her seat, weary from her unsuccessful dealings, "Thanks."

"…Name's Andrew," the nerd informed her, not entirely sure what else to say.

"Lilah," the lawyer replied, "So…do you do this for a living, Andrew?"

"It's m-more like a hobby," Andrew stuttered, _Man, you've got a hot girl in the car with YOU! You just saved her life. That's, like, one of the biggest opportunities for sex. GO FOR IT!_

Lilah, meanwhile, could easily see the inner conflict between the nerd's lust and his insecurities. She could remember when she had been that way, nervous, insecure, scared as Hell…that had been her first day at Wolfram and Hart. This boy, she felt, deserved a little bit of a reward for what had happened…

…Plus, it had been MONTHS since the last time she'd gotten any.

"Do you do anything else," she asked him, her voice going down in octave and she added a leer, for good measure.

Andrew gulped.

╟℣╢

"Everyone know their assignments," Xander called out as midnight began its final approach and, upon seeing all their nods, said, "We've done all we can. Let's fight this battle, go home, and sleep in tomorrow, yeah?"

Shouts of accord echoed in the halls after his small words. He turned on and headed for his post, but not before grabbing Giles on the way out.

"I rigged up some explosives on all the halls," he told his friend, "Push comes to shove, I'll blow the halls, keep most of the demons out. None of them should cause a collapse on us but, if needs be, I've rigged up another bomb on the boiler room ceiling…it should wipe out everything in the library, and buy Willow enough time on the outside to perform the spell."

"What about those of us inside," Giles inquired.

"If needs be, I'll kill 'em," Xander stated coldly, "Sacrificing a few lives for the world…simple numbers to me."

"How can you be so cold to your friends," Giles asked, not entirely surprised, but curious.

"I think of ourselves as soldiers," Xander reaffirmed him, "Soldiers don't save their own lives if it means letting others die. That's the way it is."

╟℣╢

Lilah smiled in satisfaction as she walked out the door. Andrew hadn't been the best she had ever had, but, for a virgin, he'd been alright. She'd called her employers the second he'd fallen asleep, and they were sending a chopper to pick her up. They weren't surprised by her failure, thankfully…they hadn't been expecting anything else.

As the black vehicle softly touched down in the hotel parking lot, she could easily hear her hotel door open. She turned around to see a half-naked Andrew, using the blanket as a loincloth, basically, staring at her. She smiled sweetly at him and blew him a kiss, then turned and joined the Wolfram and Hart employees in the helicopter.

╟℣╢

"…Wow," Andrew muttered for the fiftieth time as he exited the hotel room, planning to go home and fall asleep. He was dead tired.

"At least I don't have to worry about Jack for another-" he stopped as he stood outside the car, thinking.

They had said 'bake a cake.' Why would they go to a hardware store to get cake mix? But, a cake didn't necessarily mean a pastry…it could mean something much worse…

"Bomb," he muttered to himself as he jumped into the car and sped down the street, ignoring every single traffic law there was.

╟℣╢

It wasn't long till he'd found the four zombies, trumpeting down the street, acting like fools. He slowed down to think and came up with a plan quickly, knowing that time was short and he probably didn't have time to grab one and make him talk…there was another option.

He sped up as he came to the group and, at the last minute, pulled the wheel sharply to the left, swinging the car around as fast as he could. He heard two thumps, followed by a severe shaking as the vehicle impacted against Bob and Dickie, sending them both yelling and screaming to the ground. Before the two remaining zombies could react, Andrew stepped out, gripping one of Xander's Desert Eagles in his right hand, using the top of the car to steady his hand as he did so.

"Where's the bomb," he shouted out to the two demons.

"Why should we tell you," Jack shouted out, "What're you gonna do? Kill us? You don't have the-"

He stopped talking as he heard the thunderous roar of the weapon in Andrew's hand, then shook as he felt a spray of blood and brains impact his shoulder. He closed his eyes once, to try and regulate his emotions, and opened his eyes again.

"WHERE IS THE BOMB," Andrew shouted out, even louder now.

"…The high school," the bully told him in defeat, not wanting his life to end again, especially when the odds were that this kid would leave nothing left to be reanimated, "Boiler room."

Andrew nodded curtly, then, got back into the car and drove down the street, off towards the school, knowing that he could disarm the bomb with his knowledge of engineering. Jack sighed in frustration, wondering just how he was going to help Bob and Dickie get back on their feet, when he heard a roar behind him.

He turned around and stared into a pair of red eyes.

His screams echoed in the night.

╟℣╢

Giles took up the rocket propelled grenade as Willow began to finish the binding spell, one which would bind the Hellmouth shut and leave only the beast behind. Fortunately, the two Slayers and the Dhampir had created a great wound along its chest, one which allowed the amateur Wicca the ability to see the beating heart. He primed the weapon, just as Xander had taught him over the course of the day, and placed it on the library countertop to steady himself, not trusting his battle-shocked and aged limbs to do the work themselves. He lined his sights up with the black mass and, as soon as everyone was out of the way, opened up.

Fire spread throughout the library, as did the sudden silence as the beast shut up.

╟℣╢

Andrew looked up sharply upon hearing the explosion. He felt as though he were in Hell and, in a way, he was. The Hellmouth, at least. He thanked God that the blast hadn't set off the bomb, then set back out to finish off his task.

As he entered the high school boiler room, he sighed in relief as he found the bomb to be a crude mess of wires and chemicals. He also smiled in relief as he found the timer to be going down to two minutes. With a gentle ease about himself, the kind of ease one found in a man who knew his task so well that he could do it in his sleep, he plucked the green wire out of the main component, terminating the explosive timer with no fuss whatsoever.

He clapped his hands together, congratulating himself on a job well done, and turned back to head upstairs…only to stop as his ears heard something.

tick…tick…tick

"What," he turned around and looked at the bomb, "…I don't get it. I hear the ticking, but, the bomb's as dead as Jabba."

He quieted his breathing as best as he could and listened…it was coming…from…

"…Above me," Andrew muttered in disbelief as he looked up at the ceiling.

There was a carefully constructed bomb above him, tethered to the ceiling by wire cables. He could tell that whoever had armed this bomb was no amateur, like the zombies. This was quality merchandise. And, it was going to explode in two minutes.

Andrew hurried as fast as he could and grabbed the stool nearby, climbed up to the ceiling as high as he could, and began to examine the bomb.

"Oh, man," he muttered, biting his lip, "I can't believe this. C4, TNT, nitroglycerin…whoever made this knows what they're doing…Xander," he snapped his fingers, "He must have made it, just in case…they didn't succeed, to destroy whatever beasts he could and alert the police, they can't ignore a building that just got a huge hole blasted into it. But…why leave a timer on…it…"

He realized it with a gasp. The shockwave from whatever weapon that had blown up upstairs had to have been enough to knock the circuits off and activate the timer. Thinking quickly, the young man began to search the bomb thoroughly, hoping against hope that Xander hadn't sealed it off enough towards where someone couldn't disarm it. As he searched, he came to a small slit in the metal.

"There," the boy began to claw at the panel, knowing without a doubt that it had to be the wires.

He had it open in a short moment, due to a combination of adrenaline and frantic pulling, and was soon staring into a large mess of wires, one of every color, it seemed. Andrew quickly went through all the engineering knowledge he had, searching for something that might link him to which wire to pull.

He was drawing a blank.

╟℣╢

Amy leapt up at the last beast, the beast that was threatening her and her friends, and was intending on putting it through the worst Hell she could. What she had not been expecting was to suddenly leap between dimensions and arrive upon a black field with the beast present and, for the most part, unwounded.

"…I'm going to hate this," she whispered to herself as she charged in.

Those on the outside would have seen the demon suddenly come to a stop, then begin to squeal in pain as the Dhampir systematically beat it into oblivion.

╟℣╢

Andrew sighed as he gripped the blue wire and the green wire, knowing that it had to be one of those two. Ordinarily, in this manufacture of bomb, or, at least, he hoped was ordinary, the wire to pull was the red wire but, knowing Xander, he would have switched it up just to make sure no enemy could have disarmed it. He also knew that it would either be green, for the possession and soldier, or blue, for justice (that was what most believed the blue meant on the American flag). He just didn't know which.

"…I just had sex," Andrew muttered to himself, only to be interrupted by a shrill scream of pain from upstairs, "And my friends are losing. …Time to stand up and take a chance."

He pulled the blue wire.


	25. Love Eternal

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

_True love never lives happily ever after - true love has no ending.  
_

_K. Knight_

╟℣╢

The next day, Principal Snyder was found to be in a foul mood. His school, **his** **kingdom**, had been attacked by a group of miscreants. They'd left two bombs on his campus, both of which nearly blew up had it not been for the intervention of one of his more promising students. He knew who'd done it, why they'd done it, and had enough evidence to send them all away for a very long time.

Unfortunately, he couldn't do anything about it. The Mayor had made that perfectly clear.

"Mr. Wilkins will see you now," he wiped a layer of sweat off his forehead and nodded to the Mayor's personal secretary before making his way inside the pristine office.

"Ah, Principal Snyder," he felt his heart skip a beat upon hearing the Mayor address him but, forced himself to remain composed, "Have a seat, sir."

"Yes, Mr. Mayor," he responded respectfully and took a seat inside one of the Mayor's leather chairs.

"Well," Mr. Wilkins said with a smile as he took a seat on his desk, "This certainly has been an eventful couple of days, don't you think?"

"…Yes, Sir," the principal replied, keeping his tone as respectful and fear-free as he could.

"Part of the library was blown up," the Mayor said, his smile still present, "Two bombs defused, then covered up. Several zombies were found slaughtered near the high school. My, my, my…what an eventful couple of days…the Slayer returning-"

"Sir," Snyder interrupted, trying to keep his tone as respectful as he could while still managing to place an appropriate amount of disdain inside, "Summers? She's returned?"

"Momentarily, Principal Snyder," Richard Wilkins said with a grin, "She will be returning to Los Angeles soon but, I want for you to do something before she does go."

"…And that would be," the dictator of Sunnydale High asked.

The Mayor smiled evilly…and still managed to look like the Beaver's father.

╟℣╢

Amy, Faith, and Lozen sat around the Madison household with not a care in the world. The three women were all in a celebratory mood and, as such, were spending the day off from all sorts of dealings…per Mr. Giles's and Xander's orders.

"Check," Lozen said as she placed her castle down.

Amy said nothing, but simply moved her bishop a few spaces to take said castle.

Faith sat in the background, her headphones on as she listened to _Black Sabbath_ while playing _Final Fantasy VII_, with the whole world away as she listened and played.

"Check," Lozen said again as she positioned her bishop a few spaces away from the king.

Amy looked down upon the board and frowned…the Apache woman had her trapped, almost. But, if she were to take her way out, then she would be walking right into a checkmate. She scanned the board for a few more moments, intent on taking her time…then, she found her escape route. Calmly, she pushed her queen across the board until it took the bishop.

"I did not see that," Lozen said with a downtrodden look on her face, "But, I do recognize the pattern…a Russian defense. How did you learn that?"

"My mother," she said, bitterly, "She wanted me to be good at something, first cheerleading, then, theatre…nothing worked but, eventually, she decided to try chess…turns out, I was pretty good. She had me up at three in the morning, learning different maneuvers and patterns from all over the globe."

Lozen frowned at that…parents, most tended to be fairly good but, there were the numbers who wished to relive their childhood through their children. She sighed, grateful for the woman's demise as Amy had told her, and moved her pawn forward one space, setting her up for a checkmate.

Instead, the teenager simply moved her queen diagonally along the board until it came just a few spaces from the Apache's king.

"Checkmate," she smiled triumphantly, "I'm going to order a pizza…what do you want on it."

"A supreme, if you would," Lozen said with a grin as she put away the board, "And you did remarkably well, Amy. If you'd like, I know a chess master from Moscow…I could organize lessons for you, if you want."

Amy stared down at the phone, thinking. She really did enjoy the game, despite what all her mother had done, but…she didn't know how she felt going across the world to play a game with a master. On the other hand, she really had no plans after high school.

"…I'll think about it," she answered finally, then smiled as she saw Faith still playing her game, "Faith!"

An ordinary person wouldn't have heard her…fortunately, Faith was blessed with hearing that ensured that she could hear a Spec Ops member sneak down the stairs while still listening to her heavy metal.

"Pepperoni and mushrooms," Faith told them, not coming away from her game.

"Got it," Amy said as she dialed in.

"So, Faith," Lozen started, sitting down next to her surrogate daughter, "What is this between you and Jonathan?"

"He's alright," Faith answered with a dull grin as she began to attack the baddies, "Kinda cute."

"Would you date him," Lozen asked.

"…Maybe, I don't know him enough yet to decide," Faith said, unlike most people, she found that she had no problem talking about romance with Lozen…she was one of those that she could never have problems with, at least when it came to talking, "Besides…there's someone else I'm interested in at the moment."

"Ooh, anyone I know," Lozen, interestingly, could adopt a teenage attitude on command, proving so as she tucked her legs up under herself to lean closer to her friend.

"Maybe…" she grinned slyly, not really wanting to go into it but, embarrassed all the same, "I'll let you know."

"…Faith, we'll need to be going soon," that made Faith not only pause the game, but take off the headphones as well.

"What," she asked, startled, "But, what about all that with the Hellmouth, the Mayor, the Seal."

"We shall come back when it is necessary," Lozen stated, hiding her inner joy that Faith was still not one to shirk her duties, "But, we still have an obligation to the people of Denver…that city needs defending, too."

Faith nodded in understanding, realizing that Lozen was right. They could help in Denver, too, making some suggestions to what strategy they would be using against all these enemies.

Amy hid her frown as she thought about Faith leaving. She and the Dark Slayer had forged a special bond between themselves and Lozen…the three spent the most time together, they were bound to either hate each other or love each other. Fortunately, it was the latter…they truly enjoyed each other's company, and she would be missing them very much. She would be missing Faith even more, though.

She sighed in dismalness and dialed the kitchen phone.

╟℣╢

Giles read the passage carefully as he sifted through his books, thanking the Lord above that they had been removed before the terrible fight that had occurred the night before. Questions were needing to be answered, and he would find those answers.

(knock knock)

Right after he got through dealing with whoever it was that was at his door.

"I'll get it," Buffy said from the nearby chair, placing her book aside and putting a piece of paper in, then laying it down, closed, on the table. Giles looked on, adding another notch in her favor…she had a much greater respect for literature than he recalled.

She walked up to the door and looked through the slit to see who it was. She closed it back up and said, "Andrew."

_Bloody well good timing_, Giles smiled, then said, "Let him in."

She pulled the door open and the timid little boy walked inside, but, immediately, Giles could tell that there was something different about him…it was as though he had grown a few inches but, was still the same height…it was the way he carried himself, he realized. Before, the boy had moved with an air of self-doubt but, now, he was moving with the presence of one who was confident in himself and his abilities.

That served to confirm his suspicions.

"Andrew," he greeted his youngest charge by standing up and shaking his hand, and was once more impressed in the fact that the young man was now putting some muscle behind it, not leaving it around like a dead fish…and it didn't escape him how he had referred to him as a young man instead of a boy, "Thank you for coming. Please, take a seat."

Mr. Wells nodded and sat down easily on the couch, while Giles moved a chair so that he could face him and immediately noticed that he was getting nervous…quite understandable, given the oddity of the situation.

"Do you want me to leave," Giles added a half a point for Buffy's favor, she rarely ever considered things like privacy before.

"No, you should be fine," here was where his decision would be made.

She nodded and took a seat in a chair nearby, facing neither Andrew nor Giles. The Englishman took a breath and sat back in his chair, giving off an image of calmness, hoping to ease the young man's nerves…he seemed to have succeeded for, Andrew began to sit up straighter and his body language turned from stiff to languid.

"Andrew," he began, "You are well aware of what went on last night," the teen nodded, "You are aware that it was underneath the agreement of all of us that it was in your best interests to remain behind, due to your lack of fighting skills and maturity," Andrew looked downtrodden but, nodded all the same, and Giles made a move to scratch the wounds along his face, "You are also aware that several students, three of whom were confirmed dead months beforehand, were discovered on a road going towards the high school, two with bruising indicating a hit-and-run, while one had his head blown off…the fourth, Jack O'Toole, was eaten alive.

"And, you are aware, of course, that two bombs were manifested, both of which nearly went off…are you not, Mr. Wells?"

The young man didn't gulp or anything, he merely nodded.

"I'm sorry that I disobeyed your orders, Mr. Giles," though his posture and mannerisms had changed, his voice remained the same, "But, I did what I had to do…and I will pay Xander for the damages."

"Xander doesn't want that," the Englishman interrupted, "And you have nothing to apologize for, Andrew, if what we can infer is correct. Why don't you tell me what all happened?"

Andrew nodded and began to tell his tale, careful not to place in any dramatics or go into a narrative, just telling the story as it occurred (though he did leave Lilah Morgan out). Finally, after he was finished, took a breath in and waited for the judgment.

"…I'm very proud of you, Andrew," he looked up at that, no one had ever told him that they were proud of him, let alone **very**, "You have done a miraculous thing…you took on four zombies, all of which having been former athletes and, from what I know of them, sycophants. You stood straightforward and true in the face of danger and evil, and act of which none of us believed you capable of…well, now we know better.

"You will begin training with myself, Oz, and Xander every night. You will learn weapons, both modern and medieval, and we will determine what your place is in our little unit. You have earned a great deal with this, Mr. Wells, and let me guarantee you that you will not ever be undervalued again.

"Would you like some tea?"

Andrew let out a breath that he had been fully aware he had been holding in relief, and nodded emphatically. The Englishman nodded and went into his kitchen, leaving him alone with the former Slayer.

Andrew leaned back in his chair and waited for his mentor to come back in.

"…You shouldn't have tried handling it on your own," he looked over and saw Buffy staring at him, her eyes filled with a strange mixture of sympathy and annoyance, "You should have come to one of us."

"I didn't have that option," Andrew insisted, "You all were busy fighting off the apocalypse and, even if I had gone to you, we still would have had to find them and, by then, the bomb would have gone off, causing Xander's bomb to go off."

"Wait a minute," Buffy said, "Xander put a bomb in the boiler room, too?"

"Just in case you all failed," Andrew reasoned, "It makes sense. If he's the last one left, he'd have to do something to ensure that the demons would be stopped or, at the very least, slowed down. A bomb would do that."

"It would kill us all," Buffy said, with a small amount of malice.

"It would have helped save the world."

"…True," Buffy conceded, "I'm trying to get used to the way you guys run things. You're not afraid to do what's necessary, even if it means killing a few people…or your own people, if it means saving the world. It's just…"

"Wrong," Andrew asked and, at her nod, he said, "Think of it this way…what happens if one your people goes loco from stress in a battle and starts firing at everyone, including yourself…you can't get near them due to the firepower they got, but, you can shoot them…what do you do?"

"…Shoot them," she answered, "I get it. I still think you could have come to us for help, though."

"Everyone was busy with an apocalypse," Andrew stated, "You needed all the firepower you could get…and you barely succeeded from what I heard, if it hadn't been for Giles and Amy, you wouldn't have made it."

"…You're right," Buffy said with a self-depreciating smile, "I'm sorry. I just don't think you should be involved in all of this. You still have a chance at a normal life."

"I think that chance has come and gone after last night," Andrew said to her.

"…Still, I'm glad you made your choice," Buffy told him, "Everyone deserves that chance. But, just outta curiosity…how come you didn't take the training beforehand?"

"…I was scared of fighting," Andrew admitted, "Still am. But, when I knew what they were gonna do…I just was…in a zone, I can't really remember all of it."

"…I can't entirely remember all of my first fight," Buffy said, "I was with an old friend…an old, old friend who got turned. My Watcher, Merrick, wanted to make sure that I was able and willing to do what was necessary…I guess it didn't stick."

Giles walked into the sitting room and again, this time bearing a tray filled with small snacks and tea. Inside his mind, however, was an array of feelings and impressions that he got from that conversation…Buffy wasn't healed yet, but, she was on the way.

╟℣╢

Cordelia let go at the last second, and held her breath, waiting for the inevitable…and screamed in delight as the pins all toppled over.

"Yeah," she said in delight, "My fourth strike."

"Very nice, Cordy," Xander grinned at his girlfriend's joy over landing yet another strike.

"We are kicking y'alls butts," Cordy said to Oz and Willow with a grin.

"Just wait," Willow said, sipping on her mocha, "We may be losing right now, but we will come back and we will make you…ugh…feel all bad inside."

Willow, Xander, Oz, and Cordelia shared a look…then, burst out laughing.

"Nice," Oz said with a grin as the laughing died down.

╟℣╢

Arash Ma'har:

"Please, D'Hoffryn, you have to let me go," Anyanka, patron saint of all scorned women, told her Lord in a huff, "That woman has been scorned in one of the worst ways, and I have an obligation to fulfill her vengeance!"

"No, Anyanka," the Lord of Arash Ma'har stated inarguably, "The Powers have made it quite clear that this is all a part of her trials. If you interfere, then you shall be stripped of your title and your powers. I am sorry, Anyanka, but things are in motion now and to interfere in them would be to cause a war between ourselves and the Powers…and you know what would happen if that occurred."

The Lady Anyanka nodded her head, she was all too aware of the last dispute between the Powers and the beings of Arash Ma'har and how it had turned out.

╟℣╢

Xander watched in a mixture of relief and despair as Buffy said her goodbyes to the group. It was time that she was going, time that she returned to the City of Angels. Ever since he had found out about what she was supposed to do, he had had mixed feelings about her presence on the Hellmouth. According to Giles (and he very highly doubted that the man had that information wrong), the Spirit Guides claimed that she would be a key catalyst in the end of the world…it was somewhat difficult for him to look at her in the same light as he had before.

Still, he had to keep an open mind. The odds of that happening were almost nil.

He felt his breath still as she came to him, the last person that she needed to say goodbye to before she boarded her plane. He had planned on driving her back but, Pike had insisted that she take a plane instead. Understandable, considering that Oliver wasn't aware of how the group had reacted to her…he probably didn't want to risk having Xander himself take her out and shoot her.

"…Interesting week, huh," Buffy said to him with a small smile.

"Oh, yeah," the Eagle stated, "Hell nearly came to Earth, you were temporarily enslaved, and we've got three enemies to face, while you have to deal with an evil law firm…Hell of a week, if you ask me."

She smiled at him, again. The two remained that way for a few moments, not sure what to do. A part of them both wanted to embrace each other as friends, while the rest were…simply too uncomfortable to do anything. After a moment, Buffy smiled one last, weak smile and turned away from him towards the hallway that lead to the airplane.

Xander stared after her, not sure what to feel as she boarded the plane. He sighed, his heart heavy with emotion, and turned when he felt a pair of hands wrap themselves around his waist.

"Come on," Cordelia said to him with a million-dollar smile, "We've got things to do."

He turned his gaze once more to the plane, which was just beginning to make its way down towards the tarmac, where it would ascend into the Heavens and make its way to the City of Angels.

"Yeah," he muttered, "Miles to go before we sleep."

╟℣╢

Principal Snyder sat it down upon the Mayor's desk, then hastily backed away to allow the town's leader the ability to gaze down upon it.

"I knew you would do it, Principal Snyder," Richard Wilkins said with a grin, "Oh, you have no idea how happy this makes me."

"Ugh, Sir," the Mayor looked at him expectantly, "…Why exactly do you, ugh," Snyder took a breath to steady himself, and finished, "Need this? It's just a fake piece of gold."

"Oh, it's more than that," the Mayor said, "After all, as they say, the eyes are the windows into the soul," he squatted down to get eye-level with the cheerleading trophy and smiled, "And from what I see here…there's quite a lot of soul left inside our team."

Inside, Catherine the Great raged in insanity as she watched a being that she felt had more power than she could ever afford to contain within her body stare into her.


	26. A Penny For Your Thoughts

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

_Good humor is the health of the soul, sadness is its poison._

_  
- __Lord Chesterfield_

╟℣╢

"I've got it," Willow said with a smile.

"What," Oz asked as he joined her at their desk in the bomb shelter, where they were working on finding more information on the Mayor.

"I know something very important about the Mayor," the redhead stated, "We've had the same family line for Mayor ever since the beginning of this town. I know why now."

"Why," Oz asked.

"Because there never were any Richard Wilkins's the 1st, 2nd, or 3rd…there was only always Richard Wilkins. He's over one hundred years old."

"…What is he," Oz questioned.

"You ask all the good questions, honey," she smiled at him, "I just wish I knew the good answers."

"You'll figure it out," the werewolf said as he kissed her forehead, "I have faith in you."

╟℣╢

"Damn it all," Rupert Giles muttered in frustration from his books in the shelter, where they had moved all their equipment before the last apocalypse alert during the huge firefight in the library, "I don't know what to do about any of this."

"What is the problem," Cordelia asked him, looking up from her book with an irritated look on her face.

"I've been trying to find ways of negating the Hellmouth's effect on the world, but," he sighed and took a sip of tea, "I can't find anything along those lines."

"…Is the Hellmouth like a battery," Cordelia questioned.

"No," he said, beginning to get even more irritated with her line of questioning, "The Hellmouth is a portal to…Hell, for lack of a better term."

"But, doesn't it generate power," Cordelia philosophized, "I mean, it draws demons here with its power. Doesn't that mean that it can function like a battery?"

"…I suppose," Giles admitted.

"Then, doesn't every time some big demon try to open it or do some kind of mystical evil thing draw power from it," Cordelia continued.

"…Perhaps," Giles pondered her line of thought, actually taking the time to consider it and not just downing it immediately.

"Then, won't it eventually run out of power," she finished, "Wouldn't that get rid of all the demon energy?"

"…Yes, it would," Giles admitted, "But, that's all assuming that the rest of your theory is correct."

"What if something were to absorb so much power from the Hellmouth and suddenly…I don't know, be destroyed," Cordelia moved her hands emphatically to emphasize her point, "Wouldn't that get rid of the Hellmouth, if it was still connected to its energy when the thing got blown up?"

Giles stared ahead for a moment, considering…

╟℣╢

"The Seal itself is connected to the Hellmouth, and vice versa," Andrew said to his friend, "The Seal, though, acts as a force field against vampires. Without any vamps, the Seal wouldn't have a function…it'd shut down, and the Hellmouth would shut down, too."

"So, we just have to destroy all the vamps in the Seal, bye-bye Hellmouth," Jonathan stated grimly, "Great. How do we do that?"

"We could do what Xander suggested," Andrew said, "Send a missile down it."

"We'd risk letting them all out," Jonathan countered, "We have to find a way to do that, without risking any of them escaping."

"If only there was some way to open it without letting any through," Andrew muttered in defeat.

"…Maybe there is," Jonathan said with a gleam in his eye, "Keep looking into it, I'm going to check something out with Michael."

"That warlock kid," Andrew questioned.

"Yeah," Jonathan said as he put on his jacket, "Hold down the fort, I'll be right back!"

"Well, hurry up," Andrew called, "We're playing _SOCOM_ after the rest get back from patrol, and we still have to beat Xander and Oz."

╟℣╢

Captain Riley Finn of the United States Marine Corps watched with a distinct pride as his men moved through the training exercise with a swiftness and ease that rivaled even the best Marine Force Recon team there was.

"Time," he lowered his rifle as the intercom blasted out Professor Walsh's voice, "Two minutes, thirty-seven seconds. A new record, Agent."

"Thank you, ma'am," he responded to his civilian CO before turning to his men and saying, "Alright, let's-"

His words were interrupted, however, as a mighty blast ripped apart the Initiative's walls. He looked up at the blast hole and gasped as he saw the invading demons.

"All teams, repel invasive forces," Walsh screeched into the base.

The battle lasted for about seventeen minutes…before the slaughter of the commandoes began.

╟℣╢

"How did it go," the Mayor asked the robed demon in his office a half hour later.

"The humans made a good slaughter," he answered with a grisly smile.

"That's…peachy," Richard Wilkins stated, "Your sacrifice…?"

"Done," the demon answered, "It has been a pleasure, Mayor Wilkins, as always. But, why did you want us to use the commandoes as sacrifices?"

"The Eagle's supposed to be ex-military," the Mayor answered with a grin as he went to his cabinet and got out a shrunken head, "I don't want to give him the opportunity to use that to his advantage…" he sniffed he inside of the head and said, "Where did I put that scotch?"

╟℣╢

"It's designed to make solid material easy to pass through," Jonathan was saying to Andrew later on, "We can use this to send down a missile or bomb."

"How do you know it works," Andrew questioned.

"You know all those ghost shows they have, where they witness all those paranormal things?"

"Yeah," Andrew stated, "I guess they're all real."

"Quite the opposite," Jonathan said, "A lot of them are just witches and wizards using this spell, along with a transparency spell to mask themselves, make it seem like they're ghosts."

"…That is so cool," Andrew said with a geeky smile.

╟℣╢

Amy hit the deck as a dagger came flying at her, then charged full speed into the offending demon, sending both it and herself to the ground. She used its disorientation to her advantage and quickly slammed a stake into its heart, sending it down to Hell.

"Open fire," she heard behind her, followed by the sound of machine gun fire and the twangs of longbows and crossbows…all of which was followed by the familiar sounds of vampires dusting.

"Clear up," she heard Xander call out.

"Clear," Amy said as she came to her feet, "Well," she brushed off some vamp dust from her jacket, "That was as much fun as Andrew said it would be."

"Sure was," Xander said with a grin as he reloaded, "So, let's grab these knives and whatnot and head back to base."

"What do you make of all this," Lozen questioned as she picked up a jeweled knife.

"Just another day on the Hellmouth," Faith answered for them all.

"I don't know," Amy said with a grim look on her face, "These guys were a bit too well organized to be another run-of-the-mill baddie group. I think they're here for something."

"…Maybe," Xander admitted, "Jonathan did say that there was a large migration of vamps coming in pretty soon…guess they arrived."

"Why're they coming to **this** crypt, though," Faith wondered aloud.

"Let's investigate," Lozen suggested.

"I'll go in first," Xander quickly stated and, before any of them could say otherwise, "I've got the machine gun…if there's anything in there, I've got the best chance of taking it out without incident."

All three women nodded their heads in agreement but, all four knew that it was only a matter of time before they got him back. Xander sighed and shouldered his weapon, barrel pointed forward, and charged at the door. He kicked it in easily, and used his now-backwards momentum to come to a knee, and aimed his weapon inside…and found nothing.

"No-" his words were cut off as he felt a force push against his back, sending him falling into the crypt, face first.

"Next time," he flipped onto his back and stared up into three beautiful faces, all of which had a foot placed upon his chest…with a forth foot placed somewhere more…delicate, "Make a suggestion instead of just saying so, Xander."

"…You got it," the young man answered with a self-depreciating grimace, "Can I get up?"

Faith smiled at him sweetly and grabbed his arm with her hand, easily helping him up to his feet.

"…Thanks," he responded, "Ok…who wants to look through the tombs first?"

╟℣╢

Wolfram and Hart owned dimension:

"Lindsey," Holland Manners said to his former best man, "You were on the fast lane to power, my friend…it's such a shame that you had to mix business and pleasure."

Lindsey moaned in pain as the demon continued to torture him. Ever since the Eagle had delivered him to the Wolfram and Hart office, the Senior Partners had been making an example out of him. Though he had only wanted to take advantage of what he saw as a possible asset, the Partners were making sure that no one would ever try and disobey their wishes again.

"But, now," Holland turned his gaze up the stairs to Lilah Morgan, who wore a sadistic smile on her face, "It's time for someone new to take a stab at it."

"And what a stab I plan to take," she said as she opened up the file in her hand and flipped to a specific part.


	27. Warrant of Seisure

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

The present contains nothing more than the past, and what is found in the effect was already in the cause.

_- Henri Bergson  
_

╟℣╢

"It is the amulet of Balthazar," Giles told the congregation of demon hunters the next day, "It is rumored to, um, be able to give the demon back his former prowess."

"That's nice," Faith said without much enthusiasm, "So, what about the vamps that we saw?"

"I believe they were the Illuminati," Giles stated as he went over his pages of info, "Acolytes of the demon. Most likely, they were after the amulet to get Balthazar back to his former strength. The books say that he died, but…"

He didn't have to finish. The odds of something being dead in this town were nonexistent when it came to demons…at least till they saw it dead.

"So, what do we do," Xander asked.

"For right now, we carry on as planned," Giles said, "We should be able to take these out with a fair amount of ease. As I understand it, however, Andrew and Jonathan have discovered something that could prove…monumental to our problem with the Seal."

"Yes," Jonathan took over the speech, "I've been talking to my friend, Michael, and he has a spell that turns a solid into a much…well, less solid thing. It basically creates a distortion in a solid enough towards where a solid object can go through it. Now, this might not help considering the density and the mystical properties of the Seal, but, it's worth a try."

"Can we test it," Willow asked.

"We should be able to," Jonathan said, "We just need three people to perform the spell, and probably more to supply enough energy, assuming that we need more energy to puncture the Seal's magic."

"Let's wait," Xander said, "Give me some time to get enough explosives, then we'll send them through."

"We may need a shield," Amy interrupted, "The vamps might be strong enough to break the circuits or whatever and stop the bomb."

"And what's to prevent the vamps from coming through once we create a hole," Lozen asked.

"It's just a possibility," Jonathan said, "But, that would be a problem."

"…Maybe not," Oz said quietly, but loudly enough to draw looks, "Amy…you can access the realm where the vampires are in a human body…maybe you can access their realm without a spell, just go through and take a look."

"Whenever I do that, I'm usually just surrounded by dark," Amy said, her gaze going down as she remembered the few times she had done that, "Besides, I can't control it. I don't even know how I do it."

"It would be unwise to ask that of her when we're not certain what exactly it is she does," Giles added for good measure.

"Aside from that, we need to devote a little bit more attention to the Mayor," Willow took the floor and pulled out three photographs, "This first photo is of Richard Wilkins the first, the second is the second, and the third is the present Richard Wilkins, obviously."

"…They're the same," Giles muttered in awe, "They're all the same person."

"Well, that settles that," Xander muttered, "The Honorable Mayor is obviously a baddie. Now, we just have to figure out what he's up to."

╟℣╢

Mayor Richard Wilkins watched the figure with a frown. He had not been expecting a visit from one of the patriarchs of evil, let alone one of the most powerful.

"Good evening," he greeted the First, who had come to him in the form of the vampire Darla, "To what do I owe the honor…?"

"I've just come for a chat," The First Evil sneered at him as she took a seat, though he knew that she was just providing the illusion for his benefit…or some other reason, "You are aware, of course, of the latest developments within the world?"

"I am," he stated as he sat down in his chair, providing his mind with the illusion of control, "The world's been broken out of its cycle, from what my sources say. Odd, I wasn't even aware there was a cycle till just recently."

"You are aware that** I** would have been the main threat to the world when the cycle came to a close," he nodded, knowing that it would have meant his failure before but, now he had an actual chance, "Now, you have a chance to reign…but, you know that the other side has more power and initiative than they ever could have in the Sacred Earth, the first Earth. You know that they are preparing for your coming."

"They don't know what I'm up to yet," the Mayor retorted, though he had his doubts about his own success.

"…I suggest a comradeship," Wilkins resisted the urge to snort at this, the First was simply looking to use him to try and put its own plans back on track and, perhaps, take advantage of this shift to gain power for itself.

"Why," he challenged, "Why should I work with you? You're destined to lose."

"In the Sacred Earth, yes," the First countered, "Now, the possibilities are limitless."

"…No," he stated, and his tone made it clear that he had no intention on changing his mind, "You will get your chance later on, First Evil. Right now is **my** time. Now, if you don't leave, I shall have my forces hunt down your Bringers…and you know that my forces vastly outnumber your own."

The First glared at him, but he wasn't worried. It was obvious that the First was being pushed to the brink with the recent shift in the world. Otherwise, it would never have even considered going to him. Finally, after realizing that it wasn't getting to him, it disappeared.

The Mayor sighed heavily and sat back in his chair, but not before grabbing a glass filled with liquor and delving into it. Before he had even taken a gulp, the intercom system came on.

"Mr. Mayor," his secretary called.

"Yes," he said into the com.

"Two gentlemen are here with a blonde girl, Sir," his secretary informed him, her voice a little shaky.

"Send them in," he said with a grin, he knew that he needed a lieutenant and now, he would gain a powerful one.

Two vampires quickly came into his office, each with an arm on a beautiful blonde girl in a long skirt.

"Good evening," the Mayor smiled disarmingly at the scared girl, "Don't be afraid. I do apologize, though, for the…harsh retrieval." He motioned for the two to leave and they did so, leaving the girl alone with him. "Please, sit," he said with another smile.

She did so, slowly, but it was obvious that she was more frightened than her calm exterior showed. Wilkins could understand.

As she sat down in the seat nearest to her, the seat which had been holding the First not too long ago, she did not notice the set of runes hidden underneath it…nor did she notice the cheerleading trophy covered in similar runes, hiding inside his cabinet.

The second she sat down, the spell was complete and Tara McClay found herself trapped within a piece of gold, whilst Catherine Madison found herself within the body of a powerful witch.


	28. Teen Again

WRATH OF THE EAGLE

_Life would be infinitely happier if we could only be born at the age of eighty and gradually approach eighteen._

_- Mark Twain  
_

╟℣╢

Amy grabbed her leather duster off the chair and her notebook. She was dead tired after that bit of fighting she and the group had done with the Illuminati, mainly because of something that she hadn't been completely honest about…she had felt something, a familiar something that she felt every time before she went to…wherever the Hell she went to. Only, this time, she had resisted with everything she had. That was what got her so tired, and what made her sleep like the dead…literally.

"Hurry up," Lozen called to her, "Xander's going to be here any minute."

"Hey, Faith," Amy asked her friend, who was lying on the couch comfortably, secure in the knowledge that she wasn't about to be tortured for hours on end, "How come you don't have to go to school?"

"Lozen home schools me," the Slayer replied with a grin, "She's preparing me for my initiation."

"Into the Apaches," she asked, and Faith responded with a nod, "That is so cool."

"Benefits of being the surrogate daughter to a medicine woman," Faith stated, then turned as she heard a car outside, "Sounds like X's here."

"Yeah," Amy sighed, "Wish he got a flat for just one day. Oh, well. Bye."

She threw on her duster and made sure her book bag was squared away, before turning to the front door. As she opened it, however, she felt a burst of pain all over her body.

"AHH!!!!"

╟℣╢

"Cordy, I don't think Giles would ever down one of your ideas on purpose," Xander tried to console his girlfriend with a lie, but, they were getting so close now that she could tell whenever he lied.

"Quit lying, Dweeb._(See?)_ I know Giles wasn't doing that on purpose, but, it took like seventy minutes just to get him to even think about it," Cordelia said, despite her formerly better judgment, she had come to look upon Giles as a father figure, of sorts, in place of her real father, who did little more than buy his little girl prezies.

"…What exactly was your idea," Xander asked, keeping his eyes on the road as he listened and, after she was done, he had a dulled look in his eyes and said, "…That's possible."

"I know," Cordelia said, smugly, "So, do you want to go out after we get rid of the Illuminati?"

"Definitely," Xander admitted, "I've been riding us pretty hard, ever since we found the map. At least we know why Wolfram and Hart had it, now. That guy, Lindsey, must have been using it to research our group."

He stopped talking as he came within sight of Amy's house, but, he knew that silence wouldn't remain.

"You're darn right you have," Cordelia muttered, glancing down at her nails, "I haven't had a proper manicure in ages."

"Well-" he was interrupted as a piercing scream echoed throughout the entire neighborhood. Both of the car's occupants looked up at the house and gasped as they saw a flaming Amy being pulled into the house.

╟℣╢

Catherine Madison stood before the mirror, examining her beautiful new body with a sadistic glee. Her daughter, Amy, had been beautiful but, nowhere near as gorgeous as this girl. The legs of a swimmer, a robust bosom, toned abs. It was such a pity that she hid behind all this New Age clothing. A set of leather pants would do wonders for her ass.

She smiled as the thought caught in her mind. She was now even more insane than she had been in the first place. This time, though, she was not aching to join the cheerleaders…they were small potatoes when compared to what she was up against now. Now, she had set her sights upon gaining vengeance against those that she blamed for her imprisonment. While the blonde bitch, Buffy, had apparently moved on, that still left her with the idiot child who'd wanted to cut her head off, the mousy little redhead, and the Watcher, as well as her traitorous daughter. Oh, how she'd pay.

Her smile firmly in place, she focused only a small degree of her old energy, the energy that had remained inside her during her captivity, to create a pair of tight, leather pants and an equally tight, black shirt, along with a pair of designer boots. She put each article of clothing on delicately, invigorated with the sensations caused by the leather rubbing against her, sensations that she had long done without. Now, along with her desire for vengeance, she possessed a deep desire to explore those senses of lust, pleasure…and everything in between.

As she exited the luxurious flat the Mayor had procured for her, she caught sight of one of her neighbors, a gorgeous redheaded girl who was a swimsuit model. She must have been going to a shoot or on a break, for she was dressed in a yellow bikini that did many great things to her enlarged, plastic chest, with only a jacket to cover herself up. She wasn't modest, that much was clear.

As Catherine looked at her, she felt a large tingle down below…a tingle that she had usually gotten while looking at an edition of _Playgirl_ magazine. Only, it was for this redhead. But, that didn't make sense. She was straight, not gay…

But, then again, she wasn't exactly herself. A body found things stimulating after a mind had been in control for long enough to set a pattern…apparently, this girl, Tara, had been either gay or bisexual and, as such, Catherine now found herself in the same boat. She may have been able to change these hormonal functions if she had taken possession of this body before puberty but, that wasn't the case.

Her thoughts were lost, however, as her neighbor took off her jacket, revealing every single curve and pore on her body. She felt that tingle multiply, aided by her tight, leather pants. Part of her wanted to move on, to not take any part in these feelings but, another part wanted to explore these feelings. Plus, it had been so long since she had gotten any…

She smiled and snapped her fingers, causing a small burst of magic to force itself into this girl's mind and create a single, incredibly strong impulse within this girl: _obey_. Without pause for thought, the model made her way down the hallway and stood before Catherine, a sultry smile on her face.

"Hello, Catherine the Great," she said in a seductive voice, "My name's Karin. May I come in?"

Catherine smiled and stood aside to let her in. She always got turned on whenever someone said her name like that and, since it was mental, it was the same in this body as it was in her own. She walked inside the apartment, knowing that she was about to have the time of her life.

Hours later, while she was sitting in her apartment, Karin would find that she had missed her shoot and had been fired from the set with no memory as to why, save for a funny looking mark on her thigh.

╟℣╢

Willow got out of the van the second it came to stop, with Oz and Giles not a step behind her, and the three raced up to the steps with speeds that would make an Olympic competitor jealous. Before they even got to the door, it was opened by a frantic Cordelia, who let them in without saying a word.

"…How is she," Giles asked as soon as he had caught his breath.

"She's coping," all three turned around as soon as they heard the voice of Lozen, who was looking as though she were incredibly tired, "She's got several third degree burns, a few first, but, other than that, she's well. She just can't go outside at all."

"…I don't understand," Giles contemplated as Cordelia led Oz and Willow upstairs to the Dhampir's room, "If she were to gain an intolerance to the sun, it would have arisen immediately…right?"

"I don't know, Rupert," Lozen answered, "Faith's upstairs with her, and Xander's at the school, she asked him to get her magic supplies out of her locker, just in case someone decided to break in. It happened before, while she was out of school last year."

"Is he bringing them here or is he storing them in the library," the Englishman asked.

"Most likely here," Lozen stated, "She'll be out of commission for, at least, a week, maybe even two. Her enhanced healing hasn't kicked in, for some reason."

Giles nodded in understanding, his mind already working to unravel the mystery before him. He sighed after a moment and put it aside, believing that Amy's safety was much more important at the moment.

╟℣╢

Amy looked up as she heard a set of footsteps come to her door. Before she thought, she moved to go and answer it, but bit back a whimper as she felt the burn on her backside spike up in pain.

"It's alright, Aims," Faith said to her with a small grin, "You stay still, and keep that ice on your gorgeous body, else it won't be gorgeous no more."

Amy chuckled at that and nodded, adding a bit more ice to her wounds as she did so. Faith smiled at her and said, "That's my girl." She turned back to the door and gently eased it open, since Amy still had a headache from the burns. She stood aside to allow Cordy, Red, and Oz entry into the witch's room.

"Try and be quiet, guys," Faith said to the group, "Aims's still got a headache from the fire."

The two nodded in understanding while Cordelia walked over to her friend and sat down in a chair, and Faith remained standing while Willow went to sit down beside her friend, respecting the witch's more urgent need to be beside her friend. Unlike the Bostonian, she hadn't been here for the Great Amy Fire.

"Hey, Will," Amy muttered to her friend with a smile.

"Hi, wicked witch," Willow said with a grin, "How're you feelin?"

"Like someone who'd just gotten out of a cast-iron skillet," Amy muttered, then, she turned her gaze against Oz and said, "Hey, Wolfie. Kill any rabbits lately?"

"Yep," Oz said with a straight face, "And all of them are for you, Amy."

"Thanks," she responded.

"…What happened," this question was asked by Cordelia, who hadn't said much of anything since arriving.

"…I wish I knew," Amy whispered.

╟℣╢

Catherine stood still, allowing her the ability to maintain her illusion as she watched the girls mill around, talking about boys, who's in with who, what's in style, and other matters that she had once found to be important. Now, as she gazed upon these girls, she found herself disturbed.

This was the so-called 'cream of the crop' when it came to today's teenagers? Her heart ached for her world.

Still, she would need at least one of these girls if she was going to accomplish her goal of revenge, particularly with the presence of two extremely powerful witches constantly nearby. If she were to be caught, it would not take them long to realize how to get the girl named Tara back into her original body. So, she needed an accomplice…and a scapegoat, should the need arise.

She watched with a sinister sneer as the girls cleared out, save one…she remembered all the times she had ridiculed her as her daughter.

Vengeance, it seemed, was in high demand today.

╟℣╢

Harmony Kendall sighed in relief as her 'friends' left the locker room. She had always wanted to be in Cordelia's shoes, to know what it was like to have**that** kind of power. Now, she really wanted to give it back. It was SO difficult to keep up all the ploys, all the schemes, all for the simple purpose of getting ahead in a game.

Some days, she thought that the 'losers' like Harris, who wasn't much of a loser anymore, and Rosenberg, who was dating a guitarist for a hot band, were amongst the freest of the students. Still, whenever she thought about that, she reminded herself of the perks of power.

She sat straight up as she finished dressing, and grabbed her purse, about to leave, but…tensed as she saw someone in the corner of her eye. She had been the last one out…hadn't she?

She turned around, slowly, but not slowly enough as to inspire any amount of fear, and, as soon as she saw the girl, she released all her relief in one simple sigh, only to tense up again as she saw the dirty blonde's dress. She was gorgeous in black leather, in black PERIOD, even more so than she was gorgeous in pink.

She was competition if she went to the school. But, fortunately, she was dressed in leather, so, she might be able to make her into a slut…but, that was only if she planted the proper rumors.

"Excuse you," she said snidely, intending on cutting this little slut down to size, "Why don't you-"

"Sit," the blonde girl commanded and, before she even realized it, she had bent her knees down and claimed a seat on the bench she had been using before.

"…What," Harmony asked, even more confused than she usually was during remedial algebra.

"Be quiet," she tried to force some sound out, but, became increasingly alarmed as she discovered that her voice was inoperable. Her alarm only increased as the girl sat down beside her and grabbed her head, forcing her to look at the slut.

"…I remember being where you are," she said, more to herself than to Harmony, "Being the queen of the high school, the best at everything, with the hottest car, the hottest guy, and the whole populace under my thumb. Then," her grip tightened, and Harmony found herself gasping against the pain in her head, "I remember being at the bottom, struggling to get up to the top, to be where you are. Only to have it all snatched away, and to be locked away!"

Harmony flew backwards into the nearby wall as she felt herself propelled forward, by a woman who had seemingly used little to no strength. _Great,_ she thought, _Another Buffy Summers._ She turned her gaze upward and cringed in fear as she watched the woman come forward. She stopped, however, before she could get too close, and looked down. Harmony followed her gaze and saw that her skirt was opened and, with her spread legs, the woman had a very…open view onto herself…and, more disturbing, Harmony realized that the woman **liked** what she saw.

The witch slowly raised her eyes until she made contact with Harmony's and, when she did, she slowly quirked her left eyebrow and licked her lips. Harmony's brain kicked in at that moment and she began to pick herself up, intending on running out of the locker room and into the protection of Principal Snyder. Before she could, however, the woman raised her hand and, before she even knew it, she knew nothing at all.

╟℣╢

Catherine smiled as she saw Harmony begin to move, and she calmly raised her hand up, pouring a small amount of power into the girl's mind. If it had been a nerd, a jock, or a Goth, she would have had a lot more trouble that she had. Fortunately, Harmony was little more than a pair of pleasant breasts with a mouth and blonde hair, and her mental abilities amounted to that, as well. She slammed through her mind easily, taking her over completely with little effort.

By the time she'd finished, she had turned Harmony into a passable version of the girl she had been, with only two differences: servile to Catherine, and only Catherine; and she now had a perfect memory. Slowly, Harmony finished out her movement and came to her feet, and Catherine returned her power of speech to her. As she did so, the cheerleader began to walk over to her, moving her hips in a seductive manner and licking her lips. Her eyes were dull, even duller than before, but, they held within them a sense of…servitude and lust.

Perfect.

She smiled even more as she felt her wrap her arms around Tara's body, the body she was occupying, and begin to kiss her along her neck. She sent a silent command, however, before she could allow her lust to get the better of her and, instantly, Harmony backed away and went to her knees, her head bowed down in respect.

"Plenty of time for that, later," Catherine said lightly, "Now, Harmony, I want you to…"


End file.
